100 Songs of Caskett
by abbyfillion22
Summary: 100 one-shots based off of or inspired by music. Caskett set out on a 100 day quest to find 'their song'. Genres of music vary as do the genres of each chapter. At the end of the 100 days, readers will be given the opportunity to vote on which song is the most Caskett.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This story will be a series of 100 one-shots based off of different songs of a variety of genres. Each will have something to do with Castle but may veer off and explore other supporting characters. Some chapters will be fluffy, some angsty. As any of my followers know, I have issues with finishing my stories but my New Year's resolution is to actually complete all of my stories. If you have any songs you would like to suggest, feel free to send me a PM! Always, A.**

* * *

Castle laid staring at the ceiling in the dark, studying the watermark in the shape of a rabbit that had always caught his attention whenever he was in his bedroom. Morning light streamed through the openings in the blinds, creating bright stripes on the hardwood floors. Dust particles floated in the air, spinning in random paths like minute snowflakes before disappearing into the long fibers of the shag rugs.

Beckett laid with her head on his shoulder, a hardcover book with a plain black cover propped up on her bent knees, looking adorable as always in her 'just woke up' state, hair tied back in a messy braid which fell across the shoulder of her old gray Stanford University T-shirt.

"What are you thinking about?" Beckett asked suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence. She never took her eyes from the page of her book.

Castle seemed taken aback and he peered at her curiously. "What?" he asked even though he heard her perfectly.

Beckett folded the corner of her page and tossed the book at the foot of the bed. Sitting up she stared him in the eye. "What's on your mind?"

Castle raised an eyebrow. "How did you know-"

"Something's bothering you?" she finished with a smile, flashing a line of straight, pearly white teeth. "The cogs in your brain are deafeningly loud, Castle."

She knew him so well. "We don't have a song," he sighed.

Beckett's brow furrowed. "What?"

"We don't have a song," Castle repeated as if it was such an obvious topic to bring up so early in the morning.

Her lips parted slightly and she tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean, 'We don't have a song'?"

Castle sat up straighter, his back pressing against the wood headboard. "Just that!" he exclaimed. "There's not a song that defines _us_!"

Beckett gave him a look that pressed him to explain his cogitation.

He searched for the right words and settled with a well-known comparison. "You know how when you hear… Celine Dione's _My Heart Will Go On_, you automatically think of Titanic?"

"Um… sure, yeah."

"And _I'm Yours_ reminds you of…"

"Ryan and Jenny," she replied, starting to get his message.

"Right," he nodded, "because that's the song they danced to at their wedding. And you know how certain songs remind you of a specific time in your life."

Kate pursed her lips. "Okay, yeah, sure, I get it. But I don't understand why _we_ need a song."

"Because there should be a song that comes on and everyone automatically thinks, 'Oh, that song is so Caskett. Those two are so cute'," he explained. "We need a song that they can play at our wedding."

Beckett mulled this over and realized that he had a point. "Okay," she resigned. "What's your favorite song?"

"No, it can't be _my_ favorite or _your_ favorite," he argued. "It has to be a song that defines _both _of us and tells our story."

"So what song is that?"

"I have no idea."

She sighed. "Okay, well… we have, what, a hundred days left until our wedding?"

"Exactly one hundred."

"So every day, we find a different song and at the end, we'll choose the best one," said Kate, already going through a mental playlist.

Castle grinned, happy that she was on board the cheesy task train with him. Normally, she would have teased him; calling him a metrosexual for being such a hopeless romantic. "Great plan. But how will we choose?"

* * *

**A the end of the 100 songs, I will set up a poll so you can vote on which song makes you most think, 'Oh, that song is so Caskett. Those two are so cute'. Always, A.**


	2. Ch1) Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

**Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy**

**By Queen**

_When I'm not with you_

_I think of you _always

_(I miss those long hot summer nights)_

_I miss you_

_When I'm not with you_

_Think of me _always

_Love you-love you._

**T**he train floor under Castle's feet rumbled with a comforting solidarity as it jumped along its iron tracks, its wheels grinding against the rusty bars beneath it. The slim possibility of derailing was thrilling, causing his fingertips to tingle pleasantly every time he thought about it. Castle had chosen to take the ancient steam train for several reason; the thrill being one. Being on the old-fashioned means of transportation sent the writer's mind reeling; providing him the perfect atmosphere for creative thinking. Sitting in his private box, surrounded by poufy red velvet seats, and the countryside flying by outside his window, Castle could pretend he was on his way to the North Pole aboard the Polar Express, Hogwarts-bound on the express of the same name, or Tom Cruise on a top secret mission. The boundaries of his creative mind were limitless, yet only one thing was on his mind.

And that was Kate.

The past two weeks he had been on business in Maine, Kate was all he could think about, day and night. While stuck in the stuffy board rooms during publishing meetings, his thoughts were consumed with fond memories of long hot summer nights spent with Beckett in the Hamptons, laid out on the cool beach sand with the rising tide licking their heels as they stared up at the stars. As he pretended to listen to Gina's plans for the new book tour, Castle's mind was elsewhere, daydreaming about what Kate was doing at that moment and wishing he was next to her. And at night as he lay in a bed that was far too lonely, he only desired the sound of her breathing and the cherry-vanilla smell of her hair as he fell asleep.

When he wasn't with her, he thought of her, always.

Eagerly, he was waiting as he got closer and closer to the city, knowing that with every minute, he was closer and closer to seeing her again. Closer and closer was he to seeing that perfect smile and bright eyes; hearing her sexy, sonorous voice as she told him she thought of him too. Always, she thought of him too.

Fourteen roses sat next to him on the velvet seat, cradled in translucent plastic. Fourteen roses; one for every day he missed her.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we are now approximately ten minutes from our destination_."

Castle turned to look outside as the barren trees and fields turned to squat, dilapidated buildings with faded signs and smashed windows. Slowly, those structures grew, becoming more and more dignified as they did until they were skyscrapers; piercing the clouds to touch the heavens. And when the shining top of the Empire State peeked out of the mass of its other, shorter and less impressive neighbors, Castle knew he was home.

When the last minutes of daylight slipped behind the cityscape, the train came to a grinding halt in front of an old station. As he was stepping down onto the platform with his suitcase in hand, Castle reached into the inner pocket of his three-piece suit and removed his cell phone which had been turned off during the journey in order to respectfully maintain the 1920-esque atmosphere of the train.

"Beckett," the beautiful voice on the other end answered.

Castle beamed. "Hey, gorgeous. Guess who's back in town."

"Castle!" she practically squealed with glee. "Hey, babe, I missed you."

"I missed you too. Were you thinking of me?"

"Always," Kate replied automatically. "Are you going to be home soon?"

"An hour away still, unfortunately," he sighed, raising a hand for a cab. "Rush hour, y'know." The silence of disappointment met his ear. "But, hey, I have an idea."

"Oh, yeah?" she said with a tone of excited curiosity.

A yellow taxi with a lit-up advertisement for _Wicked_ came to a halt in front of him and he hurried to deposit his bags in the back, his mobile pressed between his shoulder and ear. "Me, you, dinner at the Ritz. We'll meet at nine," he said smoothly as he climbed in the back seat of the cab.

The driver turned around. "Where to?"

"Ritz-Carlton, Central Park," Castle whispered with his hand over his phone, setting the fourteen roses in his lap.

"Nine?" asked Beckett. "Isn't that a bit late?"

"Nine," Castle stated, checking his watch. It was already 7:47 and he was nowhere near Central Park. "Precisely. I'll pay the bill; you'll taste that red wine you favor so much…"

"Mmm," Beckett hummed. "That sounds romantic."

He smiled to himself, "…and we'll drive back to my place in style, my Ferrari will do quite nicely-"

"Your place?" she interrupted. "Why not mine?" She was offering because her apartment was not being shared with a nosy mother with a keen ear for all things meant to be private.

"Take me back to yours, that will be fine."

"Just fine?"

He could imagine Kate with the corner of her lip trapped between her lips in that way he adored so much. "More than fine for what I have planned, sweetheart."

They exchanged a few more words of affection before hanging up.

The cab driver turned around at a stoplight, his silver hair reflecting the many illuminated billboards hanging above. "Sounds like I need to get you to the Ritz," he said with a knowing grin. He had driven hundreds of young men home from that train station in all his days as a cabbie, all of them eager to meet their lovers after their time away.

Castle nodded. "And step on it."

The driver chuckled to himself as he faced the road. "You sure know how to court her, son. Just like a good old fashioned lover boy."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you don't know the song, please go listen to it! I do not own the rights to Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. Always, A.**


	3. Ch2) Beneath Your Beautiful

**Beneath Your Beautiful- Labrinth**

_You've carried on so long_

_You couldn't stop if you tried it_

_You've built your walls so high_

_That no one could climb it_

_But I'm gonna try_

_Would you let me see beneath your beautiful_

_Would you let me see beneath your perfect_

"Kate," he interrupted again.

She paced the floor in front of the makeshift murder board, its contents revealed by the unfolded shutters. On it was taped blue index cards with crucial notes on the case, profiles of victims and suspects, and various newspaper clippings. This board was her dirty secret; something she had only revealed to one other person. It was also her burden; having been haunted by its contents for years since they were resurrected. All of that information there, but meaning nothing.

Until now.

She was so close that she can taste it.

Castle was half listening as she rambled on excitedly about the new leads they had just received. He looked at her with pain in his eyes, knowing that he was about to lose her, one way or another. He has something to tell her, something that needs to be said for both of their sake. The truth was on the tip of his tongue, yet he held back as she talked. He didn't want to say it, but he would much rather lose her… friendship than let her get killed.

"Kate," he said more forcefully this time.

She stopped abruptly and looked up at him, oblivious to what he was about to say.

Castle took a deep breath before saying, "You have to stop."

Kate's smile quickly faded and her lips parted.

"This investigation, you have to stop," he said dryly.

She tried to brush it off nonchalantly. "Castle, we already talked about this. I'm fine." She was smirking ever so slightly to better play it off as a light conversation.

He noticed that she said she was 'fine', like she always did when she wasn't. "I'm fine," she had said when she was dealing with her PTSD. "Castle, I'm fine," she always said with a sad smile. 'Fine' in her book meant just the opposite. When it came to Beckett, feelings were: fantastic, excellent, great, good, okay, not okay, crappy, bad, horrible, fine. He sighed inwardly. She was "fine".

"I'm in control."

Either she was in denial about the entire situation, or she was so far down the rabbit hole that she truly believed that she was in control. It was the fear she had expressed to him during their first year together and he insisted on reopening her mother's case; that she wouldn't be able to stop once she started again. She's carried on so long with the investigation; she couldn't stop even if she tried.

"No, you're not," he stated. "They are." He told her about Smith and the deal he had made in order to protect her, his heart growing heavier with every word as the hurt resonated on her face.

In her book, he wasn't protecting her, he was _controlling_ her. And there was nothing she hated more than being held back. He had betrayed her. "How do you know he's not involved and how the hell could you _do this_?!" she said, her voice rising.

Castle didn't hesitate. "_Because I love you_."

She was taken aback by this sudden turn.

He took a step towards her, his tone going from sad to angry. "But you already know that, don't you? You've known for about a year." She says she's been healing but the truth is, she's afraid. He thought he had finally started opening her up until that day he heard her say that she remembered. It was then that he realized that she wasn't ever going to be ready; to have the kind of relationship she wanted. He was hurt by the truth; hurt as much as she was now because she had built her walls so high and he had wasted so much time trying to climb them. Still, he tried.

They exchanged a few more angry words that he barely registered. Castle found his eyes filling with tears as she became increasingly furious at his betrayal.

"How am I even supposed to trust anything you say?" she spat, standing akimbo.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "How are you…?!" he tried to calm himself. "Because of everything we've been through together!" Castle shouted. They had been through _everything_ together, the good, the bad, and everything in between. "Four years I've been right here. _Four years_ just waiting for you to open your eyes to see that I'm _right here_." His voice cracked with emotion, sad, angry, and hurt at the same time.

She softened a bit, backing off from her angry persona for a brief moment.

"And I am _more_ than a partner," he continued, his blue eyes shining with unshed tears. He hadn't blinked for a full minute now from fear that those tears would spill over. "Every morning, I bring you a cup of coffee just so I can see a smile on your face because I think you are the most… remarkable… maddening, challenging, frustrating person I've ever met. And I love you, Kate and if that means _anything_ to you… if you care about me at all just- just don't do this!"

Kate paused, debating whether to accept and reiterate his profession of love. Of course, she loved him too, but she was far too pissed off and focused on her whale to even consider talking about their relationship. "If I _care_ about you?" she hissed, walking towards him until they were inches apart and she was glaring up at him. "Castle, you cut a _deal _for my life like I was some kind of a _child_."

He turned his head slightly.

"My life!" she shouted, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "_Mine_! You don't get to decide."

Castle, lowering his voice to a more controlled manner. "You keep going with this, they're going to decide. They're going to _come_ for you, Kate."

"Let them come!" she declared. "They sent Coonan and he is dead. They sent Lockwood and he is dead and I am still here, Castle and I am _ready_."

Perhaps her knack at slipping through death's fingers gave her a false sense of confidence or perhaps she didn't care if she died, but she was talking completely crazy now. Facing these people was suicide. "Ready for what? To die for your cause?" he sputtered. "This isn't a murder investigation anymore, Kate. They've turned it into a war." A war she was losing because she was far too personally involved.

"If they want a war, then I will _bring_ them a war," she said, pointing to the ground to further her point, "straight to their doorsteps."

Castle sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Well, ah, I guess there's just nothing I can say," he resigned quietly. "Is there? Okay, um… yeah, you're right, Kate. It's your life," he began to turn away. "you can throw it away if you want but I'm not gonna stick around and watch you…"

Was he really walking away from her? She desperately wanted to tell him not to go, to stay and be with her because she _needed _him. She wanted to reach out, grab him by the arm and kiss him because she loved him too. She loved him before and she loved him still. She would love him always.

No matter what.

But she couldn't do any of those things because she was angry. Irrationally so.

"So…" he took a few tentative steps back to test the waters. "this is, um… over. I'm done."

And with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him with dramatic finality.

* * *

**Author's Note: ... :*( that hurt to write. If you haven't heard the song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Beneath Your Beautiful. BTW, _Always_ will be on TNT at 6:00 tonight! Always, A.**


	4. Ch3) Space Oddity

**Space Oddity**

**By David Bowie**

_Ground Control to Major Tom  
Commencing countdown, engines on  
Check ignition and may God's love be with you_

Kate knew when she accepted the gigantic diamond ring that fateful day at the swing set that she was marrying a six year old. So it was no surprise when she walked into the living room to find her fully grown fiancé sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a toy rocket in his hand, Apollo 11, to be exact.

She stood there quietly observing him as he made an adjustment to the tiny needle and gleefully placed it on its launch pad.

The model rocket was a gift from Alexis for the holidays and Castle had been dying to test it out from the minute he tore the wrapping paper from its box. The rocket was a spectacular likeness of the real thing and would launch into space using voice activation.

Castle had yet to recognize her presence, for he was completely absorbed in the toy in front of him. With a careful hand, he made one final adjustment on the dorsal fin and scooted backwards so he was clear from harm's way.

Kate couldn't help but find his fascination with the spaceship endearing.

Castle, sitting on the floor with his knees to his chin and a sparkle in his eye, took a long minute to stare at the shiny ship with a faraway look. In his mind, Castle was probably walking across the bridge towards Apollo 11 in slow motion; his helmet tucked under one arm as dramatic trumpet music played in the background. "Ba, ba, ba," Castle hummed the _Apollo_ theme "ba, ba, BAAAAA. Ba, ba, baaaaa, ba, bum."

Kate grinned, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the doorframe as she watched the events unfold.

Castle leaned forwards slightly in anticipation. "Commencing countdown," he said quietly in a German accent. "Engines on. Check ignition…" He waited a beat as the imaginary astronauts settled into their seats, flipping switches on the ceiling and pushing buttons on the dash. "And may God's love be with you." He brought two fingers up to his forehead and saluted.

"Ten… nine… eight," he counted with a gradual crescendo, "seven… six… five… four…"

Even Kate's heartbeat quickened as he got closer to…

"… two… one… liftoff!"

With the correct activation word said, the tiny model vibrated on its stand, a white cloud of smoke forming at its base.

Castle's smile widened as the spaceship lifted from the table into the air, shooting towards the ceiling, or in his imagination, the stars. As Apollo 11 reached its maximum height, it hovered for several seconds before making a U-turn towards the ground, a white parachute blossoming from its rear. The ship descended gracefully, its silver needle pointed at the floor and marking its target landing point in the safety of the soft carpet.

Castle shaped his hand as if he was holding a small box in his palm and raised it to his ear. "_Kshhhhh_," he mimicked static. "This is ground control. You may now leave the capsule… if you dare._ Kshhhh_."

He slowly got to his feet and waved his arms about him like he was in zero gravity. He reached out for an invisible door handle and pushed it out, taking an upwards step forwards, his arms moving loosely at his sides. "I'm stepping through the door," he narrated with the most somber expression. "And I'm floating in a most peculiar way." Castle balanced on one foot and wobbled as if he were just getting used to the air, looking around with a glazed look in his eye. "And the stars look very different today." He steadied himself and looked downwards as the spaceship finally touched ground. "Far above the world, planet Earth is so blue. So beautiful." He wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye, his head bent as he looked down at the fallen ship. "Ground control to Apollo, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong! Can you hear me? Can you hear me?" he said, his voice rising in well acted panic. "Can you hear me? Can you…"

Kate took a step forwards, making her presence known. "Major Tom?"

Castle jumped, swiveling around to face her. "Beckett! I… I, uh… um, I thought I was alone," he stammered, color rising in his cheeks.

She smiled, walking towards him. "You're so cute when you play with your toys, y'know?" She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him, staring up at him adoringly. "So…" she kissed him once. "Cute."

"Ma'am," he said with a serious, old fashioned tone of authority, "there is nothing cute about a man on a mission." He stuck his chin in the air in mock aloofness to avoid her eye.

Kate laughed. "Whatever you say, Major Tom."

He dropped his German space commander alias and smiled before kissing her again. "It's Ground Control, actually."

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, that wasn't very "Caskett-y" but I just like that song. I have weird taste in music, I know. Go ahead and judge me :P If you haven't heard it, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Space Oddity. Always, A.**


	5. Ch4) All of Me

**All of Me**

**By John Legend**

_Cause all of me  
Loves all of you  
Love your curves and all your edges  
All your perfect imperfections  
Give your all to me  
I'll give my all to you…_

…_How many times do I have to tell you  
Even when you're crying you're beautiful too  
The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood  
You're my downfall, you're my muse_

_January 9, 1999_. She sat across from her father in the fancy restaurant, their ice water slowly warming. The waiter cautiously approached them for the third time with a hopeful look, wanting to know if they were ready to order yet.

Her dad shook his head no and the young man hurried away to go refill wineglasses. Jim checked the bulky black watch adorning his left wrist and sighed.

Kate absentmindedly smoothed down nonexistent wrinkles in her lavender dress as she watched the door out of the corner of her eye, becoming increasingly annoyed with every passing minute.

Their fellow diners chatted quietly as they ate dinners of tiny portions with dainty silverware that shone in the candlelight.

They had been waiting for an hour now and her mom had yet to show. She hadn't even called to say she was late. That was the most troubling part of the situation to both of them; that she hadn't called. Johanna _always_ called to let her family know if she was running late.

Always.

So where was she?

"Dad," she said, breaking the tense silence.

"Be patient, Katie," Jim said sternly, sipping his glass of scotch, his third already. "She'll be here soon."

"I have homework-"

"Be patient. If she's not here in twenty minutes, we'll go, okay?"

She slumped in her seat and picked at the corner of the white tablecloth, working loose a piece of thread until a half of a foot was separated from the thick fabric. Five minutes passed, then ten, and finally, the twenty minutes was up and Johanna Beckett was MIA.

They drove home in silence, the radio playing softly as they pulled into the driveway.

Immediately, Kate knew something was wrong. A car was parked in front of their house and it wasn't her mom's. She squinted into the darkness and her pulse quickened when she saw the gumball on the roof of the vehicle and the blue stripe painted horizontally across the white door.

"Dad-"

"Hush, Katie," her dad said firmly although he was just as panicked as she. He eased their car up into the drive and killed the engine, the headlights going dark. As he unbuckled his seatbelt, Jim said, "Stay in the car."

Being the stubborn girl that Kate was, she didn't listen and she was out of the car before he had a chance to stop her. She hurried up the walk where a man in blues waited with a somber expression. He was a large man with an intimidating stature and a thick mustache. Crinkles lined his forehead from years of worry and he seemed older than he probably was. As Kate approached, he removed his cap. "Miss-"

Jim appeared behind her a second later.

"Mr. Beckett," said the stranger solemnly. "I'm Detective Raglan of the NYPD."

Jim shook Detective Raglan's hand. "What's this about? Is my wife-"

The Detective shook his head, staring at the ground, unable to meet their eye. "We found her body…"

Her _body_? Kate's knees felt weak and she feared that she would pass out right there in front of him. It was her worst nightmare coming to life. She dug her fingernails into her palm to make sure that she was, in fact, awake. Unfortunately, she was.

"H-How? Why? When?" Jim stammered.

Kate had only seen her father cry twice before: at his mother's funeral, and when they found out that Johanna had a miscarriage over a decade ago. She knew that once her father shed a tear, it was all over.

Detective Raglan didn't beat around the bush for all of their sake. "She was stabbed in an alleyway downtown. We think it was a random assault by a local gang we've been having trouble with recently,"

A single tear rolled down Kate's cheek, slipping over the corner of her lip and chin, hovering there until its weight betrayed it and the teardrop fell to the ground where it spattered on her shoe.

The detective looked up, his cap over his heart. "I am so sorry."

* * *

_January 9, 2014_. Kate sat on the floor in her bedroom, her knees drawn up to her chin; toes curled in the rug. Every time at around this time of year, the sadness crept up on her even though she had tried so hard to move on. No matter how much time she spends in therapy, she will never be able to get past the depression that came along with losing a beloved parent.

In one fist, she clenched the ring that hung around her neck as she stared blankly at the space in front of her. _You should have known,_ she scolded herself. _You should have known that something was wrong the moment you sat down at that restaurant and she wasn't there._

_You could have saved her._

_She bled to death _alone_ in that alleyway._

_Among the trash; the _garbage.

_In the freezing cold_.

_Alone_.

_You could have saved her…_

She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

"_It's not your fault,"_ her therapists had sad over and over again. _"There's nothing you could have done."_

Kate knew deep down that her doctors were right, it wasn't her fault. But that never stopped her from feeling guilty for not being there.

She was all alone in her apartment, having gone home late from the precinct. Earlier, she had called Castle to tell him that she would be working all night and wouldn't be home. Although she had completed her work before midnight, she refrained from going to the loft; choosing instead to hide out at her old apartment which she had little reason to spend time in recently. She didn't want to burden him with her negativity.

She stayed like that for hours, crying silently before she heard her front door open.

"Kate!" Castle shouted from the foyer.

Her eyes grew wide. How did he know where she was?

"Kate, where are you?"

She quickly got to her feet, wiping the tears from her eyes and smoothing out her disheveled clothes. She cleared her throat, "In here," she replied hoarsely. She coughed, swallowing phlegm.

He appeared in the doorway, a large white bag in one hand and roses in the other. "Hey," he said with a worried look.

Kate sat on the edge of her bed, leaning back on her hands. "Hi," she said with as much cheerfulness that she could muster. "How did you find me?"

Castle placed the roses in the empty vase on her dresser and sat down next to her. A delicious smell wafted from the inside of the bag he brought. It smelled like cheeseburgers from Remy's. "Well, you weren't at the precinct or the swings so I figured you were here," he replied, barely above a whisper.

"Why did you think I was at the swings?"

Castle stared her in the eye and she looked away in case she started crying again. "Kate…I know what day it is," he stated plainly.

"Oh."

He put a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "I'm sorry. I know how hard it is for you."

She tried to laugh which wound up coming out as a strangled sob. She wiped the runny mascara from her eyes with her thumbs. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

His brow furrowed and he frowned. "Why?"

Kate shrugged. "I'm a mess."

"Yeah, but a hot mess."

That made her laugh for real. "Castle-"

"Kate, it's okay," he assured her. "You don't have to so pulled together all the time, not around me. You don't have to be so strong for me."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He gently kissed her forehead. "You don't have to pretend to be perfect because I love all of your imperfections. Remember all that we've been through together? I've seen all of your demons and you've seen all of mine. And we love each other despite those things, right?"

She nodded, her ragged breath becoming steadier.

"Because all of me loves all of you," he went on. His hand reached up and wiped away her tears. "And you're beautiful, even when you're crying. And the world will beat you down… times like these. I'll always be here for you, Kate," he vowed. "Always. Because you're my muse."

She sniffed, filling the quiet pause. "I miss her."

"I know you do."

"I'll never be over it."

"Who says you have to be?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to I'm Widget for suggesting this song! If you haven't heard this beautiful tune, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to All of Me. Always, A.**


	6. Ch5) Enough For Now

**Enough For Now**

**By The Fray**

_That's enough for now,  
__he should've never left you broken  
He should've held you,  
things your father never could do.  
That's enough for now,  
he would've never left you broken  
He would've held you,  
things your father never told you._

Kate always dreaded coming home from school. As if dealing with her normal day-to-day wasn't hard enough, then she had to come home and deal with her dad, the drunk. Every time she walked through the front door, something was wrong.

Always, something was wrong.

Always, something was smashed or broken.

Always, her dad was passed out or about to.

And always, she was the one who had to pick up the pieces.

Today was no different.

"Katie!" Her dad screamed from the living room couch, a mostly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. He wore the same stained flannel shirt he had all week except now it was covered in pale brown vomit.

She ducked her head as she entered, heaving her textbook-laden backpack further up her shoulder. The strap cut into her flesh and burned as it stubbornly slid back down.

Jim was slumped over the arm of the couch, his eyes glassy. He wiped a dirty sleeve over his dripping chin and shouted, "Katie!" except he couldn't properly form his syllables and it came out sounding more like he was saying the letters K and E. "Where ya been?!" The heavy glass bottle he was gripping like a lifeline a moment before slipped from his fingers and smashed on the wood floor, its caramel brown liquid splashing everywhere, dripping like thin blood from the wall.

Her father wasn't fazed in the slightest.

Kate sighed, tears burning in her eyes. She shouldn't have to deal with this but she always did because she was responsible for her father. And even though he had stopped caring, she hadn't. Yet.

But there was only so much a girl, nineteen going on twenty, could handle.

The two of them had their means of coping with her mom's death. She disappeared into her work while he disappeared into his drink. The ring hanging from a chain around Kate's neck was suddenly suffocating; like a noose.

On her way into the living room, Kate dropped her school things on the kitchen floor and shrugged out of her coat.

Her dad was sitting in the pitch dark and she pulled the cord of the nearest dust-covered lamp, filling the gloomy room with yellow light the same color. Jim instinctively covered his dilated eyes, recoiling in the unfamiliar brightness. "Turn it off!" he moaned, rolling on his side.

Kate knelt down next to him and pushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead. The person who used to be her father glared at her vacantly.

Jim shoved her away with grimy hands, leaving brown spots on her white shirt.

In the middle of all of the broken glass, Kate sat back on her heels and stared at him, trying to decide what to do; drag him into a freezing shower now or wait until he passed to do so.

"Where the hell've you been?" Jim muttered into the couch cushion.

"School, Daddy."

"Why ya goin' to that good for nothin' school for?" he growled.

She ignored him, grabbing him by the arm and forcing him into a half-sitting position. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Get the hell away from me. Johanna!"

"Dad!" she said, raising her voice which made him cringe. "How much have you had to drink?"

Jim glared at her; so far gone that he didn't even recognize his own daughter. "I said get the _hell_ away from me! Johanna, where are you?" He shoved Kate harder, sending her off balance so she toppled into the shards of glass and spilled whiskey.

Her hands instinctively shot out to break her fall and pieces of the clear bottle sliced into her palms, her blood oozing onto the floor, swirling into the alcohol and the cracks in the floor.

Her dad was unbothered by this, lashing out at the lamp and knocking it onto the rug.

Kate picked herself up off the floor, crying openly now, hands stinging. "You drunk!" she screamed, rage overcoming her sadness. "You don't deserve my kindness! You know where you'd be without me?! You'd be in the goddamn ground, that's where you'd be. You'd be _dead_ if I weren't here to take the bottle from you!" she spat in disgust. "You'd be burning in hell where you belong!"

Jim stared at her with a blank look, probably not even hearing her at all.

She was breathing hard, her heart pounding in her ears. "You know what?" she said in a steady tone, raising her hands in surrender. "I'm done. I'm gone. You can take care of yourself, see how that works out." Kate hurried upstairs and dragged her suitcase from under her bed; haphazardly throwing her belongings into the open bag, fuming the entire time. _I'm done,_ she mumbled to herself. _I am _done _taking his shit_. _I am done_ _taking care of him like he's some invalid. _He _should be taking care of _me. _He can kill himself for all I care. He can go to hell. _Her bleeding hand stung with every small movement.

She knew there would be scars.

Those scars would match the ones on her heart.

When Kate pounded down the stairs ten minutes later, her dad was sitting up, his hands on his knees and his head bowed.

He was crying.

She almost caved to his weakness then and there but she looked away, collecting her backpack from the kitchen. She came back to the living room just to make sure he wasn't hurting himself.

"Katie," Jim croaked, his head still hung. "I'm sorry."

"I'm going. I'll be at Maddy's house."

"Please-"

"Good luck, dad." And with that, she left, slamming the door behind her. She didn't look back.

* * *

Of course, she was back the next day to check on him. No matter how much Kate resented her father for leaving her alone and broken, she wouldn't let him die.

The last thing she needed was more guilt to haunt her day and night like the guilt she still harbored for her mom's death.

Her fingers, which were heavily wrapped in bandages, were stiff as she tried to insert the key in the lock. The keys slipped from her grasp and hit the concrete ground. She grumbled as she stooped down to pick them up and eventually managed to unlock the front door.

Before entering, Kate paused and took a calming breath, preparing herself for what she might find this time.

"Dad?" she called out as she shut the door behind her.

No answer. She usually got some sort of slurred curse upon her arrival.

"Dad?" she said again, leaving her bags at the door and beginning a search of the house. She checked the usual places first; the living room, the kitchen, her mom's home office. Not finding him in any of those places, Kate did a sweep of the entire house with no such luck.

She found him next to the pool.

He was laying face-down in a puddle of vomit.

"Dad!" Khe cried, rushing to his side to roll him over and check his pulse. She was far too used to this procedure. She shoved the bulky black watch Jim always wore up his bony wrist and touched her middle and index fingers just under his palm. To her relief, she found a faint, almost nonexistent beat.

She stood and ran back into the house to call the paramedics. When she came back out and checked his pulse again, she found none. He had stopped breathing.

* * *

"Are you Katherine Beckett?" asked a tall doctor holding a clipboard. He had ashy blonde hair that hung in front of his eyes and sad blue eyes that stood out because of his navy scrubs.

Kate stood up from the plastic seat she had been frozen in for the past two hours. "Yes," she replied, her mouth dry, throat parched.

He extended his right hand and she shook it. "I'm Dr. Avery. Your father just got out of surgery." Years later, like Kate remembered the cigarette smell that Detective Raglan reeked of that night on the porch; she would always remember how Dr. Avery's eyebrows looked like thick black zigzags when he was feigning concern.

"Is he okay?" she asked a lot more calmly than she was. Kate should have been crying but she was fresh out of tears. When the paramedics found her, she was bent over her dead father's body, sobbing her eyes out. They had to practically drag her away so they could lift him into the ambulance.

"He'll be fine, miss," Dr. Avery assured her. "We pumped his stomach out and got him on an IV. He should be coming to soon if you'd like to see him."

She nodded, staring at the floor.

Dr. Avery ducked his head to meet her eye. "But we are concerned about his past history. From his record, it says that this is the third time it's happened-"

"Fourth," she corrected him.

He checked his papers. "Right, fourth. We believe that it's in his best interest to go into treatment for alcoholism. We'd like you to talk with him-"

Kate, who was already annoyed with the bushy-eyebrowed doctor for using the almighty 'we' pronoun, snapped. "Don't you think I've tried?" she said harshly, crossing her arms and glaring in the opposite direction. "He refuses to go." No, Jim Beckett was far too proud to go to a rehabilitation clinic, no matter how deep he got into his addiction.

"Right," Dr. Avery said quietly. He reached into his pocket and extracted two pamphlets for rehabilitation centers. On their covers, Kate knew, would be happy looking residents talking with a sympathetic therapist and some cheesy slogan saying something along the lines of "it gets better". The rehab centers would be called "Maple Woods" or "Pine Grove"; something to do with a tree and something serene. He handed the pamphlets to her. "We'd like you to take a look at these and let us know what you plan to do next."

"Can I see him now?" Kate said impatiently. She softened because it wasn't Dr. Avery's fault that her life was fucked up. "Please."

Dr. Avery nodded solemnly. "Of course."

Kate kept her eyes trained on the tiled floor as she followed Dr. Avery down the brightly lit hallway and into a tiny hospital room. Her dad was lying in a partially upright position on a bed with olive green sheets, his eyes closed. He would almost look peaceful if not for the many multicolored wires and tubes protruding from his body. Another tube was attached to his nose, helping him breathe because he was too weak to do so himself. Next to him was a metal pole with a heart rate monitor that steadily beeped every half second, creating a sharp green spike on the screen. Jim's skin was a sickly green shade and she could clearly see his ribcage through his flimsy hospital gown.

He wasn't exactly the picture of health but at least he was alive.

For now, at least.

Kate was unsure how many more times her father would survive these close calls before his body finally gave out and another tombstone would erect itself next to his wife's.

James Beckett and Johanna Beckett, back together at last.

Kate swallowed hard, staring at her emaciated father.

Dr. Avery stood there a moment, watching her to make sure she would be all right.

She slowly nodded, averting her eyes from the sad sight in front of her. The nod was her accepting him as he was and choosing to move on with as much dignity as she could.

After he was satisfied that Kate wouldn't have a mental breakdown, Dr. Avery politely excused himself, promising to be back soon to check up on them.

Kate sighed deeply and walked closer to the hospital bed, staring down at her absent father, feeling slightly sick. She dragged the nearest chair over to his side and sat down, enclosing one of Jim's hands in both of hers.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I'm so sorry, dad."

An hour later, Jim's eyes fluttered open to find everything completely blurred. He blinked hard, shaking off the daze.

Kate looked up, her hands still grasped around his. "Daddy-"

"Wha-Where am I?" he grumbled groggily, trying to move his arm but found it attached to too many machines to go very far. He stared at the IV in his wrist, completely confused, licking his chapped lips.

"Daddy, I'm here," Kate said to calm him. "It's me, Katie."

Jim looked over at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Katie…"

"You're in the ER," she explained, squeezing his hand comfortingly. "You-"

"I'm so sorry, Katie," her father interrupted.

Kate sat back slightly, loosening her grip. "It's fine-"

"No!" Jim said, his voice rising. "It's not fine, don't you _dare_ say that it's fine! What I did was not _fine_." His breath became short, the exertion from the brief bout of anger having worn him out. He shook his head as he swallowed a large gulp of air. "It's not fine, it's… Katie, I'm so sorry. I hurt you…"

"Yeah," she replied, barely above a whisper. "You did. You hurt me pretty badly, actually." She uncurled her fingers to reveal the fresh cuts, the epidermis of the tender skin just beginning to heal over. If she moved too much, the fragile flesh would break, reopening the wounds.

Jim took one look at her palms and quickly looked away, disgusted with himself. "God, I'm so sorry, Katie. I should have never…"

She nodded, understanding.

He swallowed hard. "I should have never left you broken. After your mom…" he trailed off, "… I should have held you; I should have been there for you. But I couldn't…"

"I know."

He exhaled deeply and reached out for her hands which had retreated upon his awakening.

Kate stared at their connected hands with a heavy heart.

"Kate," he said quietly, willing her to meet his eye. "You wouldn't believe how incredibly sorry I am. For everything I've put you through."

She blinked up at him, her elbows on her knees.

"I… I'm going to get better, Katie-"

"You said that the last two times-"

"I know," her dad said quickly, "but I really will this time."

Kate didn't want to believe him. She wanted to still be angry at him- she had every right to be angry-but for some reason, she just couldn't be. Because all she wanted was for Jim to be the father he used to be; the father who took her to baseball games and taught her how to ride a bike, the one who hunted down the boy who broke her heart in eighth grade, the one who told her that everything was going to be okay. "Promise?" she asked.

"Promise."

They stared at each other for a while, both unsure of where to go from there.

Jim sat up and reached for the black band around his left wrist, his nimble fingers struggling to undo the clasp. Finally, he removed the watch, his skeleton wrist looking odd without it, and grabbed Kate's hand again which was resting on the bedrail.

"Dad, what are you-"

He fastened the old watch around her frail wrist. "This is yours now, Katie," he said "to remind you of the life you saved today." Her dad slid the metal prong through the smallest hole and released her hand, gesturing to her arm "There," he grinned proudly "perfect fit."

The watch was huge on her but she didn't have the heart to say so. Her eyes welled up with tears as she looked at it. She rotated her hand to get used to the heavy feel of the watch and she noticed that the time was completely wrong. For some reason, this made her smile.

She sniffed and looked at her dad, showing him the watch face. "Maybe this is why you're never on time," she joked, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she admired it. She knew her dad loved this watch; his own father gave it to him for his eighteenth birthday. Jim was never seen without it on. She moved to take it off; surely he would want it back later.

But her dad shook his head. "No, keep it. It looks good on you," he smiled, showing a row of yellow teeth.

She smiled back as he took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'm going to be okay," he told her, "_We're_ going to be okay. I promise."

Kate's smile faded slightly. Just a promise wasn't enough.

A peace offering in the form of a beloved watch wasn't enough.

But it was enough for now.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for taking a while to post this, something was wrong with my account. If you haven't heard the song, please go listen to it! **I do not own the rights to Enough For Now.** Thank you to the readers who sent me their Casketty song suggestions! It might take me a while to find a storyline to go with them, but I will find inspiration soon and those stories will be out in due time! Always, A**


	7. Ch6) Lucky

**Lucky**

**By Jason Mraz**

_I'm lucky to be in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have been_

_Lucky to be coming home again._

_They don't know how long it takes,_

_Waiting for a love like this_

**(Mid Season 3)**

Beckett knew that it was a bad idea. Correction: a _terrible _idea. But when Castle had invited her to an impromptu movie night at his place, all she could think about was spending two hours alone in the dark with him. Of course she said yes, but with an indifferent air that played it off like she really didn't want to but would anyways.

But now, as she was standing in front of his door with a bag of burgers and fries from Remy's in one hand, and the other hand hovering in a fist in the air, trying to work up the nerve to knock, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

She accepted his invitation because they were _friends_ and watching movies together was something that _friends _did together. It wasn't weird at all.

So why was she so conflicted?

Maybe it was because Castle was her best friend… who just so happened to be of the opposite sex… and just so happened to be attractive… and just so happened to be attracted _to _her. Just her attractive male, heterosexual _friend_ who wanted to sleep with her.

Oh God, she was in trouble.

Before she could change her mind, Beckett knocked three times on the door and waited with baited breath.

"Coming!" Castle shouted, footsteps growing louder from the other side.

Feeling suddenly self conscious, she took a step back, shoved her hands in the pockets of her jackets, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to find the most natural pose. Just before the door opened, she extracted her cell phone from her back pocket and acted like she was checking her text messages.

"Hey!" Castle greeted her with a huge smile.

She smiled back, putting away her phone. "Hi." She noticed that he was wearing his dark ruby red shirt that made him look all tan and muscular. His hair was perfectly disheveled like and slightly wet like he had just taken a shower.

She was in _deep_ trouble.

He stepped back to allow her entrance. "Glad you could make it."

"Glad you invited me," she replied, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked around. It had been a while since she had been to his loft and there were a few minor changes to the décor: a collection of new paintings on the wall, a half dozen pillows on the L-shaped vermillion couch, and a shiny glass award on the bookshelf.

Castle looked at her curiously. "You are?"

She caught herself being overly nice. "Um, yeah, I didn't have anything else to do tonight."

He looked away, his smile faltering. "Oh, right. So what's in the bag?"

"What, oh, bacon cheeseburgers," she said, "I stopped at Remy's on the way over."

Castle smiled, his cheekbones rising to meet the corners of his eyes. "You're the best."

"I know," she shrugged, following him into the living room.

He bent over the DVD player and she got a pleasant view of his toned backside.

"So what are we watching?" she asked, using the opportunity to eye him appreciatively.

He straightened and turned around with the remote in hand. "Titanic."

Kate nearly choked. "Wh-Why?" she stammered. Leave it to Castle to pick one of the most romantic movies of all time to watch with the person he had secret romantic feelings for. _Way to be subtle, Rick_.

Castle shrugged nonchalantly as if he didn't purposefully pick the movie. "I dunno, it just came out in high def and I heard that the visuals are terrific." He strode into the kitchen and came back with two glasses and a bottle of red wine.

At this point, Kate was very skeptical about his true intentions for the evening.

"Can I pour you a glass?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a clever grin.

"Um, no," she responded bluntly. She was almost certain that if she had anything to drink, her brain may not be functional enough to resist Castle's advances and somehow her clothes would wind up on his living room floor. That would be the end of their friendship. "So where's your mom?" Beckett asked lightly, secretly hoping that she was upstairs or in the next room.

"Out with her manfriend, Chet," Castle said.

Damn it.

"Is it weird, your mom dating?" she said in an attempt to make small talk.

Castle set the unopened bottle of wine on the coffee table next to the bag of greasy food and flopped down in the corner of the couch. "I try not to think about it," he said with a disgusted look on his face. "Are you going to sit?"

She looked down, debating where to settle. There were four couch cushions along the longest part of the L and he was taking up the fourth. She figured that the safest place for her to be was the farthest away from him so she sat on the very opposite side.

Castle pressed play on the menu screen and used a second remote to dim the lights as the movie started and the gorgeous orchestral music began blaring from the surround sound speakers.

Kate sat stiffly in her seat, her arms crossed over her stomach and gaze affixed on the screen. She could feel Castle watching her and she glanced at him out of her peripheral. "What?"

"Why are you sitting so far away?" he asked casually.

She narrowed her eyes and looked directly at him, his profile illuminated by the glow of the television. "Where do you _want_ me to sit?" she challenged, giving him the opportunity to explain what he wanted.

"We could always cuddle."

Beckett wasn't quite sure if he was kidding. "We are _not_ cuddling."

Castle pushed himself up. "Okay fine." He scooted onto one of the middle cushions and slouched down with his feet on the coffee table. He looked over at her again and patted the seat next to him.

She rolled her eyes but moved to sit next to him, assuming the same slouched position as he. "Happy now?"

"Yes," he said bluntly, reaching for the burgers and extracting two from the bag, handing one to her.

"Thanks," she muttered. On the screen, the young Leo DiCaprio was running down the hall of the ship with his friend, happy as could be.

Castle opened the bottle of wine and took a swig directly from the bottle. "Are you sure I can't interest you?"

She eyed it skeptically, then at him.

He assumed a face of innocence and she accepted the bottle, taking a tiny sip before handing it back to him and unwrapping her hamburger.

They sat shoulder to shoulder without talking, munching their food and sipping wine as Rose and Jack began to fall for each other.

_See_? Kate thought, _This isn't weird at all. Just two friends hanging out_.

"_I figure life's a gift,"_ Jack said, his hair slicked perfectly and suit nicely pressed, looking like the regular rich boy that he wasn't. "_and I don't intend on wasting it."_

Kate looked over at Castle for a fraction of a second to find that he was looking back at her.

"_You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count."_

Castle turned his head towards her and she met his eye as he mouthed, _Make each day count_, along with DiCaprio's dialogue.

She swallowed hard and looked away quickly.

It got Kate thinking about Cal, the man Rose was engaged to but didn't love, which got her thinking about Josh. He was the type of guy everyone always expected her to marry; handsome, smart, and successful. Naturally, she had neglected to mention to Josh where she was that evening, having vaguely mentioned that she would be spending time with a friend. She cleverly omitted any pronouns that indicated of what gender her "friend" was. Don't ask, don't tell, she figured.

But Rose stayed with Cal because their relationship was _practical_. She became so desperate that she found herself on the hull of the ship, ready to throw herself into the depths of the freezing sea just to escape the inevitable marriage. And then Jack came along at exactly the right moment and pulled her away from the ledge, saying "_If you jump, I jump_". That was true love, Kate knew; someone who was willing to give their own life for someone else.

She wondered if Castle would ever do that for her…

If things were awkward before, it only got more uncomfortable when the sex scene came on.

Kate bit her lower lip as Jack and Rose ran into the crowded cargo hold, giggling like the kids they still were. Elated from the thrill of narrowly evading Cal's bodyguard, the two friends turned lovers giddily climbed into the black automobile.

"Where to, miss?" Jack asked from the driver's seat, turning the wheel but going nowhere.

"The stars!" Rose giggled, leaning through the window.

And then they were in the back of the car and the windows were fogged.

Both Kate and Castle were glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes, none of them daring to move or even breathe too loudly. That awkward moment when...

Beckett could feel Castle's gaze focused on her and she averted her eyes from the steamy scene playing out on the television, her cheeks burning. The two of them were sitting so closely that their arms were barely brushing and the tension between them was electric, almost unbearable.

All Kate wanted to do was reach her hand a few more inches to the left and run her fingers up his… _nope_, she stopped herself before her fantasies got too detailed. _Friends._ _He's your best friend_,_ just your male best friend. Your heterosexual attractive male best friend… who you want to sleep with._

She wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.

Castle shifted slightly and he inhaled, like he was preparing to say something.

Kate held her breath and thankfully, he remained silent and the moment passed.

The movie came to a close, Jack holding onto Rose's hand as he floated in the icy ocean.

"_Don't let go_."

"_I'll never let go_."

But eventually, Jack did let go and he floated to the bottom of the sea, leaving Rose on the broken door. On the verge of death, Rose called out to the passing lifeboat and they pulled her up. As the story drew to an end, the orchestral music began again and the screen went dark.

Castle paused the movie as the first part of the credits started to roll, leaving them in partial darkness. They had finished their burgers and the bottle of wine was three quarters empty.

Castle sniffled and Beckett looked over at him in surprise.

"Castle…" she laughed "are you _crying_?"

He sniffed again, wiping his eyes. "Yeah."

"Why?" she found it unusually sexy that he was comfortable crying in front of her over such a sappy movie.

"You don't think it was horrible that they finally found true love and then he _died_?"

Beckett shook her head and smacked him playfully in the arm, reaching to take the bottle of wine from him. "You are such a romantic."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It isn't a bad thing," Beckett admitted, "but I think that love made them so stupid that they didn't rationalize that if Rose had gotten on the boat when she was _supposed _to, then Jack could have had that door to float on and then they both would have survived." She didn't truly believe this, she just didn't want to admit that the movie made her want to cry just as much as he was.

He looked appalled at this proposal. "And what kind of story would _that_ be, Miss I Don't Believe In True Love?"

"One that wouldn't make you cry," she said, crossing her arms. "And I do _so_ believe in true love."

"Do not."

"I do so!"

"Do not."

"Do so."

"All right, Miss Let's Change Titanic So It Completely Sucks."

"All right, Mister Jackass."

Castle flicked her on the nose and she slapped him across the chest.

"Ow, my nipple," he whined.

"Don't say nipple."

"Nipple," Castle taunted. "Everybody has nipples, Beckett. Get over it."

She stuck her tongue out at him. All this talk of nipples was making her sweat.

Castle slouched sideways into the couch and rested his head on his elbow, peering up at her with his hypnotizing blue eyes.

She stared back, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

"You know," he said in all seriousness. "I would have let you have the door."

It took a minute for Beckett to realize that he was talking about Titanic again. "And I would have shoved you off," she laughed.

He ignored the comment. "You know you're my best friend, right?"

She wanted to make a joke to lighten the mood but she resisted. She chewed on her lip. "You… really would have let me have the door?"

"I really would have," Castle said earnestly.

Kate suddenly realized how closely they were sitting. His knee was touching hers and she could feel his breath on her neck. She stared at his lips which were drawn upwards in a small smile. How badly she wanted to kiss him then.

She was in love with her best friend.

And she was lucky because her best friend was in love with her too.

She was lucky

Because he would let her have the door.

* * *

**Author's Note: Not my best work, I have to admit, but I wanted to include some fluff since my last two chapters were such downers. If you haven't heard the song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Lucky. Always, A**


	8. Ch7) A Thousand Years

**A Thousand Years**

**By Christina Perri**

_Heart beats fast  
Colors and promises  
How to be brave  
How can I love when I'm afraid  
To fall  
But watching you stand alone  
All of my doubt  
Suddenly goes away somehow  
One step closer  
I have died every day  
waiting for you  
Darlin' don't be afraid  
I have loved you for a  
Thousand years  
I'll love you for a  
Thousand more  
Time stands still  
beauty in all she is  
I will be brave  
I will not let anything  
Take away  
What's standing in front of me  
Every breath,  
Every hour has come to this_

Kate sat with her head bowed as the rain bucketed around her, drenching her entire body until she felt like she weighed a thousand tons. Her long hair clung to her face and her makeup ran down her chin along with her tears. The chains between her fingers were brittle from the cold but she was numb to all feeling.

The mulch beneath her feet became runny as the rain came down, washing away the events of the day. In the past couple of hours, she had managed to lose everything; her job, her confidence, and the love of her life.

She flashed back to a few hours before, when she was hanging from the ledge of that building by the very tips of her fingers, her thin metacarpals being the only thing keeping her from falling to her eminent death. As she looked down to the black pavement below, feeling herself slipping slowly from the edge and knowing that she was seconds away from dying, the only thing she could think about was Castle.

Her whole life came to regret, she realized. She regretted spending so much time living in the past, regretted being the closed off person that she was, regretted not being able to tell him that she loved him too.

Now, as she sat in the pouring rain thinking about him, Kate knew what she had to do.

But now more than ever, she was afraid; afraid of being rejected, afraid of getting hurt.

How could she love when she was afraid to fall?

Fear was what lead her to the swings, the place she could always be open with herself.

And fear was what drove her to rise from the swing, walk out of the flooded park, and drive over to his place.

* * *

Castle tried not to stare at her photo as he dragged the file into the virtual trash bin. He did it slowly, taking in the beautiful contours of every angle on her face, the way that the shadows brought out her cheekbones and her smile slightly overlapped her lower lip. The picture hovered for a half of a second over the trash and then it was gone.

As soon as it disappeared, Castle wished he could bring it back. He reached out to click on the recycling icon and restore it but he stopped himself and walked away.

He died every day, just waiting for her. He waited patiently because she said she needed time to heal before she could have the kind of relationship she wanted. He waited because he loved her; he respected her. But the whole time, it was just one big game that he would never win. She would never be ready, and he was done waiting.

There was a knock at the door.

He found this strange, given the late hour. He briefly wondered whether he had ordered takeout and forgotten again as his hand closed around the metal door handle. As he pulled the door towards him, his lowered gaze fell on a pair of soggy shoes, water dripping in a dark puddle around them.

He looked up and stared into dark hazel eyes. She was soaking wet and shaking, either from the cold or nerves or maybe both. Her hair was abnormally straight, hanging limp from the weight of the rain, like she had just been sitting out in the storm. Time stood still.

He considered asking her what happened, inviting her inside for a hot beverage, and wrapping her in a warm blanket, before remembering that he was cross with her. "Beckett, what do you want?" he muttered, beginning to shut the door again.

She blinked twice and said as she exhaled, "You."

Before Castle could comprehend what was happening, she had cleared the space between them and was kissing him hard, their faces awkwardly smashed together with her hands on his jawbone. It was just like the last kiss they had shared; strange, surprising, and desperate.

He stumbled backwards in shock before regaining his balance and pulling back.

Beckett looked momentarily dejected as she stared up at him. "I'm so sorry, Castle," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." She leaned in to kiss him again but he turned away, wanting answers.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Kate shook her head slightly with a sad smile. "He got away and I didn't care. I almost died and all I could think about was you," she finally professed. "I just want you."

Castle studied her, searching for some sort of hint of insincerity. What he saw was pure honesty, hopefulness, and beauty. Outside, the rain was pouring down harder than ever, pounding against the windows like a steady drum.

Everything was falling into place like the pieces of a puzzle; a thousand piece puzzle that they had been working at for the past four years, never being able to complete until now. Time was what it took to bring her heart to him; all it took was time for her to realize that he was the one for her. All along, he believed that she would find him. It just took time.

And now, as she was standing in front of him, their past argument became irrelevant, replaced by desire. All of his doubt, suddenly went away.

The next thing he knew, he was pushing her against the door, shutting it with a slam. She let out a quick gasp before he silenced it with a forceful kiss, eagerly pursuing lips that tasted like salt and spring rain. He was surprised at how natural it was, kissing her like this. He had often wondered before what this would feel like; if it would be awkward, like kissing a sister or best friend. But it wasn't, it just felt right.

After the initial shock of his aggressiveness passed, Kate began to kiss him back, her head turning and lips parting as his tongue slid into the cavern of her mouth, tasting peppermint and coffee. Their mouths crashed together in a hurried frenzy like they couldn't get enough of each other, both wanting more as quickly as possible. Hearts beat fast, bright colors erupting behind closed eyelids.

His lips traveled down her jaw, leaving light kisses on her neck as her arms hooked around his back, pulling him closer as her fingernails trailed up his spine to cradle the back of his head. She seemed to go limp against the door as he sucked at her collarbone, letting out a sigh of pleasure as she tilted her head to the side to allow him better access.

He breathed warmth into her damp skin, raindrops replaced by beads of perspiration. Their bodies tingled with every small touch, every caress sending shivers up their spines, every kiss like an explosion of fireworks.

Castle's fingers fumbled on the buttons of her shirt as he continued his pursuit, his mouth exploring the line of her jaw, the tiny dip under her earlobe. Finally, the tiny black button slipped through the thin fabric, revealing the tiny circular scar between her breasts.

She watched him admire it, taking his hand and placing it over the scar that had been the source of her self-consciousness over the past few months. For some reason, Kate found her physical scarring much more intimate than her emotional ones. She nodded, letting him know that she was okay.

Their kisses slowed from there, becoming more gentle than frenzied. Their touches were now meticulous, knowing now that they had all the time in the world and there was no need to rush.

Finally, Kate broke away, stepping around him with a playful glint in her eye, her right hand in his. She smiled as she pulled him towards his bedroom, her usual confidence restored.

He trailed after her like a sleepwalker, convinced that this all had to be a dream. It was just too good; too perfect.

They stood with their fingers locked together in front of them, the back of her legs bumping against the foot of his unmade bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Castle glanced their reflection in the mirror and he reveled at how perfectly they fit together. It was like that deep satisfaction one gets when finally being able to press that final piece of the puzzle into place, every line matching up.

Kate tilted her head upwards, her heels rising off of the plush carpet to meet his height as she kissed him gently, her lips barely touching his. She leaned back slightly before draping her arms around his neck so her mouth was against his ear. She paused, breathing deeply in indecisiveness.

Castle wrapped his arms around her waist, lightly stroking her spine with the curves of his thumbs as he waited with baited breath.

Every breath, every hour had come to this. "I love you, Rick," she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat, his smile growing with her profession. He held her tighter, never wanting to let go of the moment. "I love you too, Kate."

She clung to his bicep as she kissed him again.

"You're shaking," he noted, realizing that she was shivering.

Kate laughed lightly. "I guess I'm just a little scared." She wanted this, just as much as he did, but that didn't stop her from being nervous.

"Don't be afraid," he said quietly as he hooked a finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his. Blue met hazel. "I've loved you for a thousand years. And I'll love you for a thousand more."

"Always?"

"Always."

* * *

**Author's Note: If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to A Thousand Years. Thank you to those of you who sent me song requests and my reviewers who provide continued support of my writing. Congratulations to the efforts of the Castle fandom for voting the show Favorite TV Crime Drama and Stana Katic for Favorite Dramatic Actress! Always, A.**


	9. Ch8) Piano Man

**Piano Man**

**By Billy Joel**

_Sing us a song, you're the piano man  
sing us a song tonight  
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody  
And you've got us feelin' alright  
_

The wood clock hanging on the far wall chimed as nine o'clock rolled in. Nine for most places meant closing time, but not for the Old Haunt. Nine at the Haunt meant prime time for late workers to shuffle in, dressed in cheap, ill-fitting grey business suits and lugging around beat up briefcases like they're the very anchors dragging them down. All of them had a certain glazed, almost comatose look in their eye as came into the bar for a refreshing beer after another boring day at the office.

Those men never talked to each other. If they did, they would come to realize that they were in the same boat; holding monotonous desk jobs, enough money but not enough to spare, just sleepwalking through their day.

Castle liked to call these businessmen The Greys, both for their attire and their bleak outlooks on life.

He came to the Old Haunt on occasion to people watch, maybe find inspiration for a new tertiary book character.

But tonight, he came for enjoyment. It was a Saturday night; date night with Kate. Instead of going to a stuffy five-star restaurant where they frequented on the usual Saturday, he had brought her to the Old Haunt with him, a much more comfortable setting. Here, he was in his element.

Beckett, looking as beautiful as ever in a black strapless dress that had turned every male head on the way over, now sat across the counter from him, her elbows resting on the bar as he prepared drinks. Just to show off, Castle tossed the heavy glass bottle in the air and caught it behind his back before pouring the caramel-colored liquid into a crystal glass.

"You know what I love about this place?" Beckett asked as she accepted the drink from him, the band of her engagement ring clinking against the glass.

"The free drinks?" Castle guessed as he wiped his hands on a damp dish towel and rounded the bar to sit in the vacant stool next to her.

She nodded and sipped the scotch. "That too, but I like the atmosphere here better. It's very old-fashioned."

"I couldn't agree more. But I wish we had come a little later, it usually isn't this... grey." Castle said with a frown, looking about his bar.

As he did, he spotted the young pianist crossing the floor, his grey pea coat buttoned to his neck with a maroon scarf wrapped around his pink face. He was a recent hire; a student at a local college trying to pay off some of his debt by performing here and there. He was a brilliant musician; with nimble fingers that flew over the keys with ease. The boy took a seat at the old piano, dropping his snow-covered outerwear on the floor next to him before warming up with a few scales.

All of the Greys turned slightly towards the boy, waiting to hear what song he would play tonight to bring some color into their bleak lives.

"That's William," Castle told Beckett, nodding towards the pianist. "Our very own Piano Man."

She turned to look at him. "Does he sing too?"

"I don't know, let's find out" Castle sat up, craning his neck to shout across the room, "Yo, William!"

William, who was in the beginning verses of a smooth, jazzy number, perked up immediately. "Yes, sir?" He called back, his eyebrows raised.

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man!" Castle requested.

"I don't sing, sir," William said back, going back to his playing.

The Greys, looking even more disappointed, arched their backs and went back to glaring into their cups.

Castle swiveled towards Beckett. "He doesn't sing."

"I heard."

"But do you know who does sing?" Castle asked, gesturing to the short bartender at the other end of the bar. "My good friend, John."

John, was milling about, polishing glasses that didn't need polishing. John had a great sense of humor, which Castle appreciated, but an even better smile. He could easily be confused with an older Sean Penn. Like all the others in The Old Haunt, John wanted more from his life, which was sadly almost over.

"Rick, I believe this is killing me," John had said one day last winter as the smile ran away from his face. "I used to want to be a Broadway star," he confessed with a sad shake of the head as he wiped down the bar. "But years went by and I never got out of this place... and now it's too late."

Castle was always sure to give John a big tip.

John was now walking towards them, his hand wrapped in a cloth inside of a wineglass. "Hey, Rick, how you doin'?" he said, stopping in front of them. "Is this the pretty lady you were braggin' 'bout?"

Beckett, who was inwardly pleased that Castle was talking about her to his buddies, beamed and turned to him.

"No, that's another girl," Castle said with a smile. "Kidding, honey."

Kate slapped him across the shoulder before shaking John's hand.

"Looks like The Greys are even more depressed today," John commented, chapped lips pulling taunt wrinkled skin.

Castle shook his head. "Comes with the cold weather, I suppose."

Beckett gave him a questioning look. "The Greys?"

"The ones in the grey suits," Castle said, pointing to the businessmen scattered around the bar.

John nodded, reaching under the counter to refill her glass. "Yup, they're grey inside an' out."

"Ah," she hummed, taking a huge gulp of her drink.

John's eyebrows rose as she downed the scotch. "Wow, Ricky, you've got yourself a good one. She can really hold her alcohol."

Beckett set the half empty glass on the bar as Castle put his arm around her.

"That's one of the many reasons I love her," he beamed proudly, squeezing her shoulder.

Kate swirled the melting ice cubes around in her glass. "So, do you two give names to all of the people around here?"

Castle and John exchanged knowing looks. They not only gave stereotypical names to each of the Old Haunt frequents, but stories too.

"Well," John sighed, grabbing another glass to polish to make himself look busy. "Over there is Paul," he turned his head towards the only person talking with another. The person in question was a sharply dressed middle aged man with a tiny bit of stubble and a flowered kerchief in his lapel.

"He never had time for a wife," Castle added. "And the guy he's talking to is Davy."

Beckett studied the person they were speaking of and wondered how the two men came up with these names. Davy was a bit younger than Paul with a buzzcut and was talking quickly like he couldn't get his message across quick enough.

"Davy's still in the Navy," John explained, leaning on bar with his elbows out. "And probably will be for life. He's got great stories though, and he'll tell them to whoever will listen."

A waitress, wearing a short black skirt and white shirt waltzed by with a tray of beers and set them in front of a Grey before going back to a secluded corner where she had a stack of textbooks open in front of her. All three heads turned as she passed, not to stare at her, but to question what her story was.

John leaned in closer like it was a football huddle. "What'dya think, Ricky?" he whispered, clapping a hand on Castle's shoulder, counting on him to come up with a genius theory to win the game.

"Hmm," Castle pondered.

Beckett glanced over at the young woman who had her nose buried in a title-less book. "Med student, trying to pay expenses?" she offered.

"Nah, too young," John shook his head, scratching his chin.

"Forget young," Castle said, "she's too awake. People in med school look as dead as the Greys. No, not medical, but maybe politics."

"You think she could be practicing politics?" Beckett asked skeptically.

"That would be an interesting twist," Castle said, looking over at her.

Across the room, one of the Greys coughed loudly, choking on his drink. It was the most alive he had looked all day. The man, breaking from Grey protocol, stood with his beer in hand and walked over to the nearest fellow Grey and sat down across from him. The second Grey looked appalled, as if it was the strangest occurrence for another person to talk to him.

"Would ya look at that?" John mused.

Castle stared at them with a shocked expression. The two men started talking without the slightest hint of a smile or enthusiasm, as if the topic of their conversation were about their own funerals. "That is _so_ weird."

Beckett, instead of watching the Greys, was studying Castle. "You spend way too much time here, don't you, babe?"

"Kinda, it's good for writing," Castle said, never averting his gaze from the Grey One and Grey Two, just in case looking away would break the magic that was happening in front of them.

"Little lady," John said quietly, "You have no idea what a great day this is; when one of those zombiebusinessmen gets up and shows some spark in his eye, enough spark to speak to someone…" he sighed in awe "a magical day this is, Ricky. I never thought I'd see it."

Beckett pursed her lips as she looked over at the Grey men who, at first glance, looked identical in their suits, unkempt hair, and dead expressions. "They look so sad," she commented.

Castle clucked his tongue, finally looking away to take a sip of her scotch. "Yup. They're sharing a drink called loneliness."

John picked up his rag and draped it over his shoulder. "But it's better than drinking alone. Yo, William!"

William ceased playing, the beautiful music that had filled the room coming to an abrupt stop. "Yessir?"

"It's a special day, son," John said loudly. "Sing us a song, you're the piano man."

William stared at them with his mouth slightly agape.

"Boy, what are we payin' you for?" John laughed. "If you can't sing! We're all in the mood for a melody. Sing us a song!"

"Sir, I don't sing," William said pointedly before going back to his playing. He slammed his fingers into the old keys and trilled a random tune before rolling his hands down to home position. The song he was playing was slow and melancholy, each note dragging into the next in a flawless slur.

"Aw, take it easy on him, John," Castle said with a wave of the hand. "Not everyone can sing as well as you…" he smiled, looking right at Beckett. "Even though it's as easy as Doe, a deer, a female-"

"Don't," Beckett stopped him immediately. She knew that if he got much further into the song, he would never stop.

Castle suddenly hopped down from the stool, slapping a fifty on the counter for John.

Castle bowed slightly in front of Kate with his right palm extended upwards. "May I have this dance?"

Kate glanced at John who was grinning from ear to ear, then at the rest of the people in the room. "Castle, no one else is dancing."

"So?"

"So…" she blinked rapidly "don't you think we'll look weird?"

Castle smirked. "Again I ask so?"

She threw one last look at John who shrugged before jumped down from the stool and accepting his hand. "I'd love to."

Castle dragged her to the middle of the room next to where William and his piano were.

William turned to them without faltering from the song. "It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday, Mr. Castle."

Castle placed a twenty in the young man's tip jar. "It's you they've been coming to see. To forget about life for a while." He winked, patting the folded up note farther into the jar. Castle walked back to Beckett and wrapped his arms around her waist, slowly turning in place as the music flowed around them.

As they danced, Beckett relaxed, coming to ignore the judging stares and whispers. It was as if the only one else who existed was him. _Best date night ever_, she thought to herself, wishing that they did this type of thing more often. It was like being a teenager again; doing silly things with a guy she was madly in love with, not caring in the slightest about anyone else.

The Greys all stopped and stared, their blank expressions softening to reveal some hint of emotion.

"Look at them," one whispered to the other.

The waitress looked up from her book to watch.

Davy stopped talking and tapped Paul on the shoulder, pointing in the couple's direction.

"Crazy kids."

"I remember when my wife and I were in love like that," Paul said nostalgically.

"You have a wife?" Davy asked, finally taking interest in someone else's history.

From the bar, John watched the two lovers together, an ache growing in his heart. He wished he had someone like that.

Then, the most surprising thing happened, even more surprising than the Greys talking to one another. William began singing.

His voice was even better than his playing, sonorous and perfectly tuned, with the breathy tone that almost sounded like crying. It started out as quiet humming as the piano man found his voice, growing in volume as he gained confidence. When he played his piano, William kept his head bowed towards the keys. But when he sang, he lifted his chin proudly towards the ceiling with the calmest of expressions, his eyes closed. He put his own spin on the well-known song, extending the pauses between verses and dropping the last note of each word so it was a more melancholy version.

Beckett rested her chin on Castle's shoulder, pulling him closer as they danced along to the melody.

"La la la de de da," William hummed, "la la lade da da dum… Sing us a song, you're the piano man… sing us a song tonight. Well we're all in the mood for a melody…"

John, the waitress practicing politics, Paul who never had time for a wife, Davy who was still in the Navy, and every single Grey in the Old Haunt chorused, "And you've got us feeling all right."

* * *

**Author's Note: Just a little fluffy gift for fans of Piano Man... which I'm pretty sure is almost everybody who's ever heard it. But if you haven't, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Piano Man. Keep sending me your song requests! Always, A.**


	10. Ch9) Is This Love

**Is This Love**

**By Bob Marley**

_I wanna love you and treat you right;  
I wanna love you every day and every night:  
We'll be together with a roof right over our heads;  
We'll share the shelter of my single bed;  
We'll share the same room._

Castle strode through the front door, bag of food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. Like always when entering Casa de Beckett, he was met with a warm gust of air from the overhead heating duct and the smell of flour. Her apartment was small and cozy, slightly resembling an uptown flea market with its mismatched furniture, old metal pieces, and eclectic paintings. Like her wardrobe, Kate's home mainly stuck with neutral brown, grays, and beiges, but with unexpected pops of color here and there to keep the eye from settling too long in one place. Part of the wood floor was covered in a frayed ornate rug with small circular burn holes from the previous owner's dropped cigarette which Kate said gave it "character".

From the foyer, the kitchen, dining room, and office could be seen. The other rooms were dark, but Castle could clearly see the outline of the table in the dining room. One leg was snapped towards the base from the last time he had come over with a bottle of Kate's _favorite_ red wine and they had gotten a little too rough in the dining room. That wobbly table, he knew, would always be a friendly reminder of their sexy time together.

The place was much homier than Castle's modern loft, the only similarity between the two being the many books lining the walls and floors. He always felt more comfortable here than anywhere else for some strange reason. Perhaps it was the Beckettness permeating from every single inch of the apartment or just the overall welcoming atmosphere that she had effortlessly created.

Castle found his fiance sitting cross-legged on the floor with a large book in her lap and an open bag of almonds to her right. Her long brown hair was twisted into a careless braid which fell down her right shoulder, a few stray curls too short to fit with the rest left framing her face. She was dressed in a navy NYPD sweatshirt and black shorts that showed off her long legs which were still tan for mid January, no UV lights needed. Kate always preferred sitting on the floor than in chairs. It was just one of many weird things about her that Castle adored.

She looked up when he came in, her frown turning to a smile.

Castle walked towards her, setting the wine on the glass top of the coffee table next to a large book called "The Buildings of Manhattan" and an empty mug with an inch of cold coffee in it.

"Hey, babe," Kate said, dog-earing the corner of the page she was on.

"Hey," Castle replied, bending down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "What'cha reading?"

She held up the encyclopedia-sized novel. "_Under the Dome_."

"Stephen would be thrilled."

Kate weighed it in the palm of her hand. "It's good, but it's so _heavy_. I can't read it anywhere else because it needs its own zip code."

"Stephen said at the last poker game that he wrote it so the book would double as an emergency weapon," Castle said, dropping the bag of food on top of her almonds. "Y'know, if someone's attacking you, you can just chuck this thing at their head."

Beckett laughed. "Yes, because I always carry around Stephen King books with me in case I need to defend myself. What's in the bag?" Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air.

Castle tore open the paper bag, its bottom lined with grease. He took out a sleeve of french fries and handed it to her. "A midnight snack."

"Yes, food!" she exclaimed happily, throwing an arm around him. "How did you know I was hungry?"

Castle chuckled as he took out his own container of fries and reached for the bottle of wine. "You're _always_ hungry, Beckett." Her healthy appetite was another one of Kate's traits that he found adorable.

Kate bit a fry in half and leaned in to give him a kiss, her lips covered in sea salt. "I love you."

"Because I brought you french fries and wine at twelve o'clock at night?"

"Among other reasons," she grinned, yanking the cork out of the bottle with a loud pop.

Castle smiled just because he enjoyed seeing _her_ smile. "IloveyoutooWillyoumoveinwithme?" he said quickly while he was ahead.

Kate's smile quickly disappeared. "What?" Her head whipped around, causing her long braid to smack him in the nose.

Castle shrunk back, his audacity diffused with her negative reaction. "I guess that's a no then." He took a swig of wine directly from the bottle.

"No, no, not a no," Kate said quickly, turning the rest of her body so she was completely facing him. She drew her knees up to her chin, her toes curling into the carpet.

Castle had a brief flashback to his proposal at the swings. Not a no, but not a yes.

Color rose in Kate's cheeks and she pushed her hair behind her ears to buy herself a few seconds of time to collect herself. "No, sorry, babe, you just took me by surprise!" she said, her smile coming back. "Of course I'll move in with you. If you haven't forgotten, we're getting married in September."

Castle sat tall again, his lower lip protruding in a puppy dog-like pout. "But, Kate, that's so far away!" he whined. "I don't want to wait that long."

"Aw, babe," she rubbed his arm, "is your mom driving you crazy again, is that it?"

"No," he responded, although his mom was _always_ driving him crazy. "I just want to be with you day and night, no more of this two separate apartments thing. I wanna love you every day and every night, we'll be together with a roof over our heads, sharing the same bed, sharing the same room…"

Kate trailed her fingers up his arm. "Sharing the same bed _does_ sound nice." Although she was free to come and go into the Castle loft whenever she pleased, there was something about having one permanent home with him that excited her, just like the prospect of having a permanent husband made her happy every time she thought about it. It was one step further into their commitment to each other.

Castle's eyebrows rose. "So… that's a yes?"

"Hmm," she tapped her chin, teasingly pondering the decision. "No."

Castle frowned, his eyes narrowing, unsure if she was joking or not. "Wait… so no?"

"That's right," she nodded firmly, reaching into his lap to take the wine. She examined the label.

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously. "I thought you just said-"

Kate took a sip of the rich alcohol before handing the bottle back to him. "I'm not moving in with you because I want _you_ to move in with _me_."

Castle grinned. Moving in with _her_ was an even better idea. They would be able to do whatever they wanted _wherever _they wanted without worrying about his mother walking in on them or Alexis barging in unexpectedly. Gone would be the days of coming home to a too empty loft, of having to call the electrician to fix his faulty air conditioning system every other week, and of needing an entire team of maids just to dust his house. Never again would an ex wife or potential future son-in-law feel welcome to stay with them. Castle would be able to bring the few things he was attached to from his own home and put them with Beckett's; his photographs, the sea shell collage, and of course, his books. He couldn't wait to see his vast collection of mystery-thriller novels intermixed with her biographies and ancient encyclopedias on the shelves of her living room.

His PC could go across from her outdated iMac g5 so his muse would be close by whenever he wrote. And they could share an iCloud account! How domestic.

They could yell at each other in the mornings to hurry up because they would be late for work and he could make her coffee while she's in the shower. He could love her every day and every night, be together under the same roof, and share the shelter of a single bed…

"Castle," she snapped her fingers in front of his face, breaking him out of the cloud of his fantasies. "Do you want to move in with me or what?"

Castle answered with a kiss, one that tasted of salt, wine, and promise for their future.

* * *

**Author's Note: Is This Love by Bob Marley is the song that Stana Katic personally said she wanted as Castle and Beckett's wedding song, so naturally I included it. I do not own rights to Is This Love. Please keep sending me song requests! Always, A.**


	11. Ch10) Bright Lights and Cityscapes

**Bright Lights and Cityscapes**

**By Sara Bareilles**

_Hold my breath and I'll count to ten  
I'm the paper and you're the pen  
You fill me in and you are permanent  
And you'll leave me to dry  
I'm the writer and she's the muse  
_

The tiny black line in the left corner of the Word document continued to blink, taunting him with the empty space in front of it.

Castle glared at the line with his chin in his hands. Twelve hours of sitting at his desk and that cursor had yet to move across the page. Outside the office window, the sun was setting behind the horizon and the sky was a spectacular shade of cat-vomit pink. The oranges melting into the pinks gave the impression that the same cat had swallowed some mangos and salmon before throwing up on a navy carpet. It was an ugly sunset which concluded an ugly day.

Just so he felt like he had accomplished _something_, Castle stabbed the tab button on his keyboard so the blinking line moved over a half an inch and continued to flash. He sat back and huffed, his arms stretching above his head, stiff from lying immobile on the desktop all day long.

Castle examined the mess in front of him with a bleak expression. Littering the perimeter of his desk was a large collection of trash he had managed to accumulate during his twelve hours of not writing; an empty pizza box with two cold slices of meat lover's stuck to the lid, six cans of beer, four empty and crushed, two left still attached to their plastic rings, and a couple dozen napkins with shorthand scrawled on them.

He dragged his inactive mouse forwards to wake the screen that had turned a solid blue, the words _YOU SHOULD BE WRITING_ blinking across the screensaver. Castle clicked the small X in the top right of the page and a warning box reading _Do you want to save changes to Document1_? popped up with a yellow yield sign preceding it. He clicked no and the white document disappeared, replaced by hundreds of icons scattered on the desktop.

Castle sighed as he slouched in his chair and turned to look at the vomit-pink sky, wishing that someone would call with a juicy case to solve that would feed his creative mind. But his phone had been silent all day and his muse was with the FBI, working on a string of murders that had been occurring in the Queens area over the past few weeks and could not be disturbed.

Castle hadn't seen Beckett since the week prior and her absence from his life was what he accounted for his writer's block.

Deciding that he wasn't going to get anything productive done otherwise, he picked up the phone and called her.

She picked up on the third ring. "Beckett."

He smiled at the sound of her voice. "KBecks!"

"Hey, Castle."

"Hey, KBecks," he chirped

She sighed. "Was there something you needed?"

"You."

"Okay, besides that."

He picked up a smashed beer can and tossed it across the room where it bounced off the wall and completely missed the trash, a few remaining drips of brown liquid leaking onto the floor. "Did you know you're my pen?"

She paused. "What?"

"My pen," he repeated, getting up to properly dispose of the can, his knees cracking as he rose. "I'm the paper, you're the pen."

"Thank you?"

"'Cause you fill me in and you're permanent," he explained, tossing the can into the bin, "like a pen." He imagined her standing in a dark room with high tech computers surrounding her. She probably had that cute confused look that made her forehead all wrinkly.

"Ah."

"You're my pen, just like you're my muse. And right now my page is blank without you," Castle sighed, taking his seat again. He looked out the window again the sky was now a pleasant shade of peach mango sherbet, almost as if his connection with Beckett had made everything just a bit better. As it grew darker, the city came to life, bright lights lining the cityscape. He clicked on the Microsoft Word icon on his browser and a clean white expanse spread in front of him. "My page is literally blank right now."

"Did you call me just to spout metaphors?" she asked with a laugh. "And I told you never to call me your muse again, or I'd break your legs."

"Beckett," he whined, sticking out his lower lip even though she couldn't see him pout. "I miss my pen… And you're too far away to break my legs anyways."

She sighed, unsure of how to respond to that statement. "Well… maybe you need to go find a pencil until your… pen gets back home. Or maybe a nice marker."

He pondered this. "Meaning…?"

"Go find inspiration elsewhere. There's a whole world out there for you to pull ideas from, you don't need me."

"Ha!" he exclaimed, switching the phone from one ear to the other. "That's where you're wrong. I need you like a paper needs its pen-"

"Or the paper could find a pencil," she pointed out.

"-like cheese needs macaroni-"

"Cheese could go hang out with some crackers."

"-like peanut butter needs jelly-"

"Peanut butter goes nicely with chocolate also."

"-like straws need their berries-"

"Castle, that doesn't even make sense."

"-like an Oreo needs milk-"

"Are you just going to keep making food similes or is this going somewhere?"

"-and like a writer needs his muse," he concluded before she got too annoyed and hung up.

"Well…" Kate trailed off, lowering her voice so the people around her wouldn't hear the suggestive comment she was about to make. "When I get back home, I'll give you _plenty_ of inspiration."

Castle grinned, rolling a pencil between his thumb and forefinger. "Meaning…?" He tapped the rounded eraser end against the tab button on his keyboard and braced his hands above the home row in preparation for creative material.

"Castle, you know _exactly_ what I mean," she whispered, her voice oozing sexiness behind the simple sentence.

"I know, I just wanted to hear you say it," he admitted with a sigh. "But I know you're probably surrounded by government agents and it would be completely inappropriate to say in the workplace."

"You got it." Someone in the background addressed her and she covered the phone to speak with them. "Babe, I gotta go, we just got a lead on this guy," she told him as she shuffled papers together and holstered her gun.

Castle, slightly disappointed that their call was cut short, hurried to sum up the conversation. "All right, go kick some ass, Beckett, I miss you."

"I miss you too," Kate replied, slightly out of breath from hurrying to keep up with the other agents. "I love you."

"Love you more."

"I'll be home soon," she said, "go find yourself a pencil to occupy yourself with."

"Ooh, that sounded kinda dirty."

"Okay, goodbye, Castle."

"Bye, Beckett." He hung up and set the phone down, staring at the blinking line on the white screen that was no longer a taunt, but a challenge. His index fingers naturally found the raised lines on the F and J keys and soon, his hands were flying across the board, words blossoming on the page.

_The sky outside Nikki's window was a spectacular shade of cat-vomit pink; an ugly sunset to conclude and ugly day. Jameson was away on business, covering a story developing in Nigeria. His work, Detective Heat knew, was important, but that didn't stop her from wishing he was there with her instead._

_She paced in front of the wide window, the bright lights and cityscapes holding none of their usual grandeur on this gloomy day. All alone in a city of thousands, she only wished for one person…_

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to Michi789 for suggesting this amazing song! I hope you readers have been enjoying this long string of fluffiness as some angst is coming up! If you haven't heard Bright Lights and Cityscapes, please go listen to it. I do not own rights to this song. Keep sending me song requests! Always, A.**


	12. Ch11) Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow

**Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow**

**By The Shirelles**

_Is this a lasting treasure  
Or just a moment's pleasure?  
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?  
Will you still love me tomorrow?_

**Always 4x23**

Castle's doubts pulled at the back of his mind as they stumbled into the bedroom. There was an subconscious battle of emotions; making him unsure of how he felt about this. Despite his doubts about where this was headed, he didn't protest as they continue towards his bed with their mouths locked together. Each kiss accompanied with passion, lust, and unsaid words. He touched her cheek, gently brushing away every last drop of rain left on her soft skin, savoring every slip of her nose across his own.

He tried to think of something to say; something that will assure him of her intensions, but decided against it, afraid of bursting the bubble. A moment later as they fell on top of the sheets in a mass of entangled limbs, he realized that he didn't care. All he wanted was her.

Still, when their clothes were on the floor and he was staring down at her, naked and vulnerable to him, he couldn't help but wonder what this was for her; a lasting relationship, or just a moment's pleasure?

A carefully thought out action, or something done on a whim; driven by leftover adrenaline from a near-death experience.

But those thoughts disappeared when they kissed.

Making love to her was so pure and intimate that he could only believe that her feelings were genuine. Not even Castle's wildest fantasies even came close to the feeling of them together at last, the past four years of friendship, hardships, and heartbreaks finally merging to this one moment.

Kate sighed as he moved inside of her, her fingers curling in his hair as he kissed away her pain. Could he believe in the magic of those sighs? No matter what, he knew that he would always remember the feeling of the breath of air she exhaled from her nose when he touched her waist, the warmth of her hands on his neck, and the sweet sound of the gasp that fell past her lips when she had reached her climax. Pleasure undulated through her entire body as she came down, her limbs going limp at her sides.

Two orgasms later, as they were lying on their backs next to each other, Castle stared at the ceiling with a heavy feeling in his heart. Confliction tore up his insides; he had never been this happy and scared at the same time. Beckett was such a whirlwind force; here one moment, gone the next.

But then her hand found his, their fingers weaving together.

Castle turned his head and their gazes meet. He looked into the eyes of his best friend, the ones that were the windows to a damaged soul. He had looked into these eyes hundreds of times before, trying to see what was behind them. Tonight, he finally did.

She blinked, dragging his hand across the wrinkled sheets until his knuckles were against her lips. "I love you," she whispered, her mouth barely moving.

The weight sitting on his heart lifted, but not all the way. He was still skeptical, afraid that this was all just a dream that he would eventually wake up from. Would she still love him tomorrow?

* * *

Castle woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. The warm sun was streaming in through the blinds, casting orange-black shadows across the room. He looked around the disheveled room, covers tossed haphazardly to the side. Clothes were strewn across the floor and he was pretty certain he was naked. His skin gleaned with dried perspiration and, judging by the stiffness in his neck and back, he had done _something_ strenuous last night.

Yet Beckett was MIA.

Castle sighed inwardly as he leaned back on his hands. So the events of the previous night _had_ been a dream.

Then she came walking in the door and he had to do a double take. Was this moment also a figment of his overactive imagination?

She looked so beautiful, dressed in one of his white button-down shirts that fell halfway down her thighs, the collar unbuttoned to reveal a hint of cleavage. Her legs looked miles long and her skin glowed golden tan in the morning light, hair disheveled and flipped carelessly over in the opposite direction it usually laid. In her hands were two white mugs and she smiled tentatively as she entered, the corners of eyes wrinkling. She sort of shyly approached him, her feet treading lightly across the floor.

Castle smiled, his heart leaping in his chest.

"I made you a coffee," she said, holding up the mugs.

"So… it wasn't a dream," Castle grinned.

Kate handed him the hot beverage, its surface steaming. "No," she chuckled, perching on the edge of the bed next to him. "You definitely weren't dreaming."

"Well you were right, I had _no _idea," Castle joked, making a reference to the first time they had met. It was an attempt to test the waters of their new relationship, to see if their rhythm had changed in any way; if things would be awkward now that they had slept together.

Luckily, Kate didn't miss a beat. "So you liked it?"

"Yeah," he said immediately. Last night had been unbelievable; both because they were so good together and it was _Kate Beckett_ he had been with.

"Even the part where…" she trailed off, alluding to a certain daring trick she had attempted which required high levels of flexibility.

"_Especially_ that part," Castle assured her, "I loved that."

Kate smiled wide. "Good, me too," she nodded, self consciously looking down, her curly hair falling in front of her face like a curtain.

After a moment, Castle broke the awkward silence to tackle the elephant in the room. "So…"

Kate looked up, her lips pressed into a firm line.

"You're on…" Castle hesitated, not wanting to offend her in any way, "…on board with this right?" He set his mug on the table, untouched.

Her brow furrowed, the mascara lining her round eyes smudging together.

He continued hurriedly. "It's not just some… 'oh, I quit my job, I almost died, now I'm in crisis' thing?" He held his breath. What he was really asking was if this was a one-time regrettable hookup for her or if she really wanted to be with him. He prayed that the case was the latter. He wanted to be more than a one-night stand, he wanted to fall in love her again; take her out on dates and buy her flowers and cheesy romance stuff like that.

"Um…" she mumbled. "No, not for me."

"Okay!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "Me neither!"

Kate nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay… good."

"Good."

There was an awkward pause. "But I ah…" she said, her fingers finding the buttons of the shirt. "Did just quit my job and... I do have the day off."

"I do…" Castle looked down as the last button holding the front of her shirt together slid apart from the sheer fabric. "…too." He muttered, transfixed by the curve of her breast which he had missed the opportunity of properly admiring last night because of the darkness.

"Really?" she asked teasingly. Of course, if she had the day off, so did he.

He stared at her, a playful glint in his eye. "Yes."

"Ah," Kate nodded.

"So, ah… what would you… like to do today?" He reached out and pulled the shirt away from her shoulder, the fabric falling down around her waist. He kept his eyes affixed on hers as they chatted although he was admiring her body in his peripheral.

"Um… I don't know," she said in a serious tone as if their day ahead needed to be planned out. "We could read."

"We could watch TV," he added, keeping the game going, relieved that they still maintained their usual banter.

"Yeah," she nodded. "We could get something to eat."

Castle leaned forwards. "We could do that or…" What he wanted to do went unsaid. Their lips touched for a whisper of a second before…

A door slammed. "RICHARD!" Martha shouted. "I'm home!"

Crap.

* * *

**Author's Note: If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow. Angst coming right up, promise! Always, A.**


	13. Ch12) C'mon

** C'mon**

**By Panic! At the Disco (feat. Fun)**

_What would my head be like  
If not for my shoulders  
Or without your smile  
May it follow you forever  
May it never leave you  
To sleep in the stone,  
May we stay lost on our way home_

_C'mon, c'mon, with everything falling down around me  
I'd like to believe in all the possibilities_

_If I should die tonight  
May I first just say I'm sorry  
For I, never felt like anybody_

The sound of their shoes pounding the tile floor was the only thing louder than the sound of their hearts hammering in their chests. Dozens of doors flew by in their periphery but the only one they cared about was the one a hundred feet in front of them.

_Faster_, was all they could think as they sprinted towards the exit.

The bomb was set to go off in less than three hours and they needed to get Bomb Disposal Units on the scene before it obliterated the entire street, most likely spreading deadly radiation throughout the tri-state area.

Beckett, who was the faster of the pair, reached the exit first. She slammed her hand into the bar, pushing the door ajar as she waited for Castle to catch up.

He jogged towards her, his lungs burning from the exertion of the run from the other end of the warehouse. A few feet away from freedom, Castle skidded to a sudden halt, his ears trained.

"Castle!" Beckett shouted, running back towards him. "We gotta go!"

Castle pressed his ear to the nearest steel door.

"Help!" a disembodied voice shouted from within. "Somebody help me!"

Beckett frowned as she drew her gun, gesturing for Castle to get back. The door was unlocked and Beckett pushed it open tentatively, her piece off safety. She swept her weapon around the small room which was stacked to the ceiling with overflowing filing cabinets.

Castle followed her in, keeping one foot in the doorway since it locked from the outside. He squinted into the musty closet-like space, at ill ease.

"Stay by the door," Beckett instructed him at a whisper as she silently proceeded into the room. "NYPD!" she shouted, her voice echoing off of the metal cabinets.

From the door, Castle watched her back as she tiptoed forwards. It was a good thing he was too, because out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shift in the shadows a second before the gun went off.

"Beckett!" he shouted, diving away from his post to tackle the perpetrator.

"Castle, the door!" Beckett cried, a bullet hole in the wall directly behind her.

He knocked the shooter to the ground, wrestling the gun from his grasp and tossing it away. The man Castle was sitting on was small and wiry with distinctive red hair and a chipped front tooth. It was none other than Jonathan Ross, the killer they had been searching for before stumbling upon the C4. "Ross!" Castle growled, punching the sputtering man across the nose just because he could.

Beckett, who was busy kicking at the-now locked-door, spun around to face them. "What? Ross?!" she hurried to Castle's aid, extracting the cuffs from her back pocket.

Castle dismounted the killer and dragged him to his feet so Beckett could cuff him.

"You idiots!" Ross grumbled, blood dripping from his nostrils. "Now we're _all_ locked in here!"

Beckett slapped the metal rings around Ross's wrists. "Yeah, we know," she said, glaring at Castle whose job it was to make sure they hadn't gotten into this situation.

Castle shoved Ross into the filing cabinet, causing a pile of papers stacked atop it to come tumbling down on top of his fiery hair. "What the hell are you doing here anyways? Did you set the C4?" Castle demanded, shoving him hard.

"Ow!" Ross whimpered, his shoulder blade hitting the edge of a door handle. "I got locked in here by accident, okay?"

"Did you set the C4?" Beckett repeated her partner's initial question as she paced the room, searching for another way out.

Ross brought his cuffed hands up to attempt to stem the flow of blood coming from his nose, averting his eyes from Castle's. "You got a tissue?"

Castle, who was a good two feet taller than Ross, took a threatening step towards him.

Ross, a long-time victim of abuse in high school, instinctively recoiled, his arms rising to protect his face. "Yes! Okay, yes, I set the C4!" he squeaked.

"Why?" Beckett inquired, trying to wedge her fingers into the edge of the door to no prevail.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ross whimpered, sliding down to the floor where he crouched in an upright fetal position. "To get rid of all of these files."

Castle shot Beckett a look that said _this guy is seriously pathetic_.

Beckett shrugged. Deciding to be the good cop in the scenario, she knelt down in front of Ross whose eyes were shining with tears. "So you set the bomb so all of the data in this warehouse would be destroyed?"

Ross nodded.

"Why?" she asked gently since he obviously didn't respond well to aggressiveness.

Ross looked up at her, his lower lip trembling. "The government was looking for incriminating evidence to use against my father," he said.

Beckett nodded. "And… you knew they'd find that evidence here."

"Yeah."

Castle narrowed his eyes. "What did your father do that you felt that it was necessary to blow up an entire warehouse and potentially kill dozens of people on top of the woman you murdered two days ago?"

"I had to kill her!" Ross cried, avoiding the question at hand. "She knew too much."

"Knew what?" asked Beckett.

"It doesn't matter," Ross muttered, looking away. He ran his fingers through his curly hair. "We're dead anyways."

Beckett, deciding that revealing Ross's motives wasn't the most important issue, stood up. "We've gotta get out of here," she said to Castle. "The bomb is going to go off soon."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Ross said, rubbing his eyes. With his naturally pasty complexion, red eyes, and crimson running down his face, Ross was a demented twin to Ronald McDonald. "There's no way out."

Castle and Beckett turned towards the steel door and looked at each other.

"On three?" asked Castle.

Beckett nodded, planting one foot behind her. "One."

"Two."

"Three!"

They both charged forwards, slamming their shoulders into the door.

"You guys really _are_ idiots," Ross commented, smirking as the pair grimaced, gripping their bruised shoulders. "That thing's made of steel; you're not going to just knock it down."

Beckett took her phone out of her pocket. "No signal," she sighed. "You?"

"Nope," Castle said, circling the room with his phone in the air. "Nothing."

Beckett huffed, crossing her arms.

"We're all gonna die," Ross moaned, flopping onto his side with his bound wrists pulled to his chest.

The windowless room was now suffocating, the cramped area seeming to pull all of the oxygen from their lungs. The single 60 WAT bulb hanging from the ceiling cast gloomy shadows across the floors, the dark atmosphere matching the prospect of their eminent death.

Beckett leaned up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "Castle, I told you to stay by the door!" she hissed.

Castle stood close next to her, ducking his head so they could speak privately without Ronald McDonald overhearing. "Oh, so this is my fault?"

"No, I'm saying that you should have stayed by the door!" she whisper-shouted.

"So I get no Brownie points for saving your life?" he asked incredulously, equally as angry as she was. "None at all?"

Beckett scoffed, rolling her eyes towards Ross. "Please, Castle, look at that guy. He couldn't hit a target a mile in radii, let alone by head."

"Yeah, that's why there was a bullet hole in the wall behind where your skull was," Castle retorted, pointing at the slug wedged into the plaster.

Beckett glanced at the hole, finally realizing how close the shot really had been. "I ducked," she muttered, knowing internally that he was right.

"Because I had your back."

She chewed her lip, not wanting to concede because she was still angry that Castle had been an insufficient door stop. She looked away from him, scratching her forehead before giving him a quick kiss. "Thanks," she grumbled, walking away.

"You're welcome," Castle replied to her back. "Besides, it's Ross's fault we're in here," he said, blaming the third party.

Ross frowned.

Beckett made one final circle around the room before deciding that it was useless. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is because we're going to die in here," she said, kicking the wall in frustration.

Castle stood by her side, wrapping his arms around her. "No we're not."

Beckett sank into his comforting embrace. "How can you be so optimistic, here, Castle? No one knows we're here, remember? We never called it in to the precinct." They had come to the warehouse on a hunch that occurred to them late at night. Unfortunately now for all of them, they had neglected to follow protocol and report where they were going since Beckett wasn't on the clock. "The C4 is going to go off in less than three hours. CSU will be scraping our shadows off the wall by morning."

"We're going to get out of this," Castle assured her, tightly entwining his fingers between hers. As they stood locked in the tiny space with the killer lying on the ground in a pool of his own nose blood, Castle couldn't help but think how this situation was a close crossover to two other near-death occurrences they had experienced together over the past few years. At least this time, they weren't freezing to death and Beckett wasn't standing _on _the bomb.

"She's right," Ross said from the floor. "We're dead."

"No one asked you, McDonald!" Castle snapped.

Ross squinted up at him. _McDonald_? He thought to himself, wondering where that name came from.

Beckett turned around to face Castle, desperately clutching his hand for assurance. "Castle, now's not the time to be the optimist. Face it, we're going to die in here," she whispered.

"Don't be such a pessimist, Kate," Castle scolded her.

"I'm not being a pessimist," she protested. "I'm being realistic here, we're locked in a room with no way out and there's a bomb right down the hallway."

"We'll be fine," Castle said with finality, although he was masking his own doubts. There were only so many times the two of them could dodge death before they got caught. Maybe they were like cats, and their nine lives were finally up. Mentally, he counted how many times they had miraculously avoided dying and realized that their encounters with 3XK added up to at least seven alone. "We'll be fine," he said, this time in self-assurance. "I promise."

"How can you promise that?" Beckett asked. "How? This isn't one of your books where you can rewrite the ending-"

"C'mon, Beckett," he said. "Have a bit of faith. With everything falling down around me, I like to believe in all the possibilities. God… or Buddha, or Allah, or whoever it is will save us. And if not Him, then we've racked up enough good karma that we'll find our way out somehow."

Beckett laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, how? Is Dobby the Elf going to apparate in here and flash us back out?"

"No, but I'm going to get us out of here," Castle said. "Because it would really suck if we died and your tombstone didn't say Katherine Houghton Beckett Castle on it." He smiled.

"That's great and all," said Ross, pushing himself up into a more dignified position, the entire side of his face coated in blood. "But how are you going to get us out?"

Beckett looked from Ross to Castle, curious of the same thing.

"I'm still working on that," Castle admitted, sinking to the floor. "But I'll think of something."

Both Ross and Beckett sighed.

"Hey, hey," Castle said cheerfully. "Don't look so down, we still have a few hours to go." He crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees, palms up.

* * *

Somewhere within next hour, Beckett had curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder.

Ross was having a mini panic attack, rocking back and forth and reciting the Our Father over and over again.

"Thought of anything yet?" Beckett muttered, wrapping her arms around his bicep.

Castle unfolded from the lotus position, his knees cracking. "Nothing," he sighed, "yet."

"Pfft, _yet_," Ross mimicked.

"Hey, shut up, McDonald!" Castle hollered angrily. "At least I'm trying. And what are you doing?"

"Being productive and using my last few minutes trying to pray my way into heaven," Ross replied smartly, the handcuffs clinking as he pressed his palms together.

"Yeah, because I'm sure that Saint Peter will let a crazy killer through the gates of heaven," Beckett said under her breath.

"Haha, good one," Castle laughed. They high fived and Castle put his arm around her shoulder. "That's my girl, finding humor in the darkest situation!" He pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, affectionately brushing her cheek.

"You've taught me well," she said with a sad smile, kissing him. She checked her watch. "Castle, if I die tonight, may I first just say I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry for anything," Castle interrupted.

Kate shook her head. "No, I _am _sorry that I blamed you before. None of this is your fault."

Ross wrinkled his nose at the overly cozy couple cuddling across the room. He wanted to tell them to get a room but decided that it was against his best interests so he kept quiet.

"If anything, it's my fault," Beckett continued. "If I hadn't…" she trailed off. "I wish-"

"No," Castle said, silencing her with a long kiss. When they broke apart, he shook his head firmly. "No regrets, okay? You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

With less than an hour to go and the prospects of their future looking grim, he decided that it was time for last words. "I never felt like anybody before you," he told her, pulling her into a close hug. "Where would my head be right now, if not for you there to keep it on my shoulders?"

Beckett smiled into his neck, inhaling deeply through her nose so she would always remember the smell of him, the safety she felt with his arms around her even when everything was falling down around them.

"Where would I be without your smile?" he continued as time ticked down to their final minutes. "May it follow you forever, may it never leave you to sleep in the stone." He kissed her again, cherishing the taste of cherry Chapstick on her lips and the slip of her tongue across his teeth. "We'll stay lost on our way home," he said, trying to memorize the shades of brown and green in her eyes.

She laughed quietly. "Castle, I don't even know what that means but it was beautiful."

"It means that I hope that you'll always be happy no matter what," he explained, touching her cheek. "It means that I hope that happiness never leaves you even when you're sleeping with that gravestone above you that doesn't say 'Castle' on it."

The corners of Beckett's mouth drew downwards.

"And we'll be together again where we're meant to be," Castle concluded with a sigh. "Forever and always-"

"OhmyGod, stop!" Ross cried. "Stop being such a sap, you're a man, for Christ's sake!"

Castle glared at him. "You're one to talk, Mr. Teary McDonald."

Beckett stood up suddenly. "No need for last words, Shakespeare," she said, brushing her hands off on the thighs of her jeans. "We're getting out of here."

Castle's eyebrows shot up, surprised at her sudden enthusiasm.

Beckett smiled down at him, offering a hand to him to pull him up. "Because 'Castle' needs to be on my tombstone."

"Damn right it does," he agreed as she helped him to his feet.

"Great," Ross said, clapping his hands together. "So what's your plan?"

"Umm…" she trailed off, glancing about the room for something useful.

"Beckett!" someone yelled. "Castle!"

Their eyes grew wide and they both scrambled towards the door.

"Castle!" shouted Ryan.

"Beckett!" shouted Esposito.

They pounded on the steel door with their fists. "We're in here!"

Footsteps approached quickly and the door was forced open, light and fresh air flooding into the dim room.

Esposito and Ryan stood in the doorway, peering into the room. They both held guns at their sides, flashlights shining into the darkness like north stars.

Castle and Beckett hurried forwards, crushing them in hugs.

"Are you guys all right?" asked Esposito, looking past them at the sorry sight lying on the ground which was Ross.

"We are now," Beckett gasped in relief. "How did you find us?"

"Tracked the GPS in your car," Espo said with a shrug.

Ryan cocked his head, staring down at Ross. "Is this…?" He shined his torch over Ross's red face.

"That's our killer," Castle said.

"Wow," Ryan whistled, dragging Ross to his feet. "Dude, you look like Ronald McDonald. Wipe your face."

"I know, right!" Castle exclaimed, glad that he wasn't the only one who saw the resemblance. Suddenly remembering the C4 down the hall, Castle started. "We have to get out of here, guys. There's a bomb and it's set to go off in a few minutes."

Esposito's brow furrowed and he glanced at Ryan. "What, you mean that piece of crap with the timer on it down the hallway?"

Beckett looked at Castle, her eyes wide.

Ryan chuckled. "That thing's rigged totally wrong, it could never have detonated."

They all turned to Ross who face was bright red. He looked sheepishly at the ground. "Well what do you expect?" he growled, his shoe scuffing the floor. He tried to break from Ryan's grasp. "I looked up how to do that online."

"Ah, the lovely internet," Esposito nodded.

Beckett and Castle stared daggers at Ross.

"McDonald, I hate you so much right now," Castle said, shaking his head in disgust.

Ross shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Join the club… at least I'm not dead."

Beckett took custody of the killer from Ryan. "No, but you _are_ going to jail. Jonathan Ross, you're under arrest for murder, attempted murder… and attacking a police officer."

"On top of a billion other charges for planting that bomb," Castle added.

Ross glowered at the ground. "At least I won't be stuck in that closet listening to your cheesy love fest anymore."

The five of them exited the warehouse, Castle and Beckett both breathing in the frigid winter air that they believed they would never feel again. Cold wind bit against their warm cheeks, bumps rising on their exposed forearms like Braille. Gigantic fluffy snowflakes floated to the ground, getting trapped on their clothing and eyelashes.

Castle glanced at Kate as they approached Ryan and Esposito's red Charger. Taking the proper cues, the boys took the initiative to give the two space by depositing Ross in the back.

A grateful Castle nodded to the boys as they climbed into the front seat and pretended to be occupied with the radio.

Castle hooked an arm around Beckett's waist and pulled her in for a long, slow kiss. "I thought I'd never get to do that again," Castle said when they broke apart. He kissed her once more for good measure.

"Ewww," the boys chided from the car, their noses wrinkled.

"That's what I've had to deal with for the last three hours!" Ross said, leaning in from the back seat. Esposito and Ryan shoved him back.

"Shut your eyes," Castle told them with a laugh.

Ryan shielded Esposito's vision with his hand and Esposito did the same for Ryan.

Beckett leaned in closer, whispering in Castle's ear. "Y'know, I really wish Ronald McDonald there wasn't with us. Then we wouldn't have been _talking_ so much," she said suggestively, running her hands across his broad shoulders. "I know that _talking_ isn't the last thing I would want to do with you before I died."

Castle wiggled his eyebrows playfully. "Oh, really? And what _is_ the last thing you'd want to do with me?"

She drew the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, her hazel eyes flashing gold as the snow fell around them. She leaned in again and answered.

Castle's eyes grew progressively larger as she whispered dirty secrets in his ear.

"…and that's how I'd want to die," she concluded before spinning on her heel and waltzing away, feeling Castle's eyes on her back.

He stared after her, practically drooling. "We can still do that, y'know!" he informed her with a hopeful tone. "Let's stay lost on our way home."

Beckett held the car door open for him, tapping her heel on the snowy ground as Esposito revved the engine. She grinned. "C'mon, Castle."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm currently going through Castle withdrawal since the verification policy on the ABC website prevents me from watching the new episodes. All the stories here will be based off of early season 6 information because of this. If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to C'mon. Keep sending me your song requests! Always, A.**


	14. Ch13) Tattoo

**Tattoo**

**By Jordin Sparks**

_You're on my heart just like a tattoo  
Just like a tattoo  
I'll always have you_

Outside the window, the polar vortex sliced through the city, blanketing the streets with fluffy snow. Icy winds blew the settled snow around, making it appear as if it was still falling, blasting the rare pedestrian, dedicated runner, and shivering dog as they went about their day.

The cold, however, did not affect our favorite writer-detective couple, who were more than toasty as they lay in a sweaty, post-coital state on their day off.

Castle was sprawled out on his stomach on the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Next to him was his beautiful fiancé, her head propped up on one arm as the opposite hand trailed aimlessly through his dark hair. Perspiration gleamed in the concaves of her body; the valley of her breasts, the dip in her abdomen, and every fold of her lower extremity.

Kate watched him as his fingers danced lazily over her hip, gently massaging her side. After a few minutes of this, his hand traveled slightly across her waist and she prepared to slap his hand away in case he decided to be devious. She was glad when he stopped at her hip, his thumb and index finger framing the tiny black tattoo that had been inked there over a decade ago.

It was a circle with three miniscule birds; one inside the circle, one with its wing on the curved line, and one flying outside, away from the other two.

The entire design was no bigger than a quarter, strategically placed so it stayed concealed under a bikini. Only the people Kate was intimate with ever saw this tattoo.

The tattoo was simple and artistically appealing, the small details done with a skillful hand. On the wing of each bird, feathers could be seen, none of them bleeding into the other. It was located directly over the hip bone where it met the femur so it changed with every movement of Kate's leg. A bead of sweat had formed in the middle of the circle next to the first bird, like a tear.

Castle touched each of the birds lightly, his eyes following the path which they flew.

Kate peered down at him, her hand on the back of his neck. "What are you thinking?" she inquired.

He pressed his finger to the droplet of perspiration and flicked it away. "Did it hurt?" he asked, never taking his eyes from the birds. They were strangely hypnotic, their intricacy drawing the eye in and making the seer curious about it.

She smirked slightly, her arms stretching above her head. "When I fell from heaven? Yes, it did, actually."

Castle looked at her finally, smiling at her joke. "I meant this," he pointed to the permanent ink decorating her hip.

"Oh," she shrugged nonchalantly, her hands falling behind her head. "Not too much." Truthfully, Kate remembered wanting to scream the entire time the seedy tattoo artist had that pen in her, though she wasn't about to admit that.

Castle turned his head so his chin was resting on her upper thigh, though his gaze was affixed solely on the birds, specifically the one within the circle.

They remained like this in silence for a minute longer, a gust of wind causing snow to attack the window pane.

Kate, having recovered quickly from their earlier strenuous activity, started to grow cold. But she didn't move to get under the covers, choosing instead to scoot closer to Castle to mooch off of some of his extra body heat.

Once again, Castle touched the three birds one by one.

Kate studied him as he did this, finding the gentle action delightfully intimate.

Finally, Castle asked the burning question that he had been dying to ask since the first time he had seen the tattoo. "What's the story behind this?"

She had been expecting this conversation to occur, and was glad that there _was_, in fact, meaning behind the tattoo. She pushed herself into sitting position, her back against the headboard of the bed.

Castle crawled up next to her so they were shoulder to shoulder-how they preferred to talk-and drew the covers up over them to retain warmth.

"There's three birds," she sighed, beginning the anecdote. "And a circle."

Castle nodded, peeking under the sheets to look at it again, although he had the design emblazoned in his mind.

Kate pushed her hair behind one ear so it wouldn't fall in between them while they were talking. "I-ah… got that when I was in my early twenties and a little bit crazy," she smiled, fondly recalling her wild past.

Castle realized that this story occurred slightly after Johanna's death, a big marker on the Beckett timeline.

"Anyways," Kate continued, clearing her throat, "each bird represents someone in my family; me, my dad, and my mom."

Castle had figured this much.

"And the circle…" she trailed off, her voice growing distant, "I like to think represents life."

This part impressed him. "The circle of life," he noted.

Kate turned towards him, happy that he had interpreted the symbolism without her explanation. "Right." She paused, unsure of where the story went from there.

"And... which bird is you?" asked Castle, his head falling onto the pillow.

"The one inside the circle," she replied, pulling the blankets down to look at the tattoo. "It's also slightly smaller than the other two."

Castle squinted at it, wondering how he had missed this fact.

She touched the last bird, the one flying outside of the circle. "This one's mom. She's flying free… away from life… towards something hopefully better." The three birds were all facing in the direction of her heart.

"So the one in the middle is your dad?" he asked.

She waited a bit, as if reluctant to answer. "Yeah." She blinked rapidly, concealing the tattoo again, suddenly self-conscious about it.

Castle paused, staring at her, but she wouldn't meet his eye.

She looked out the window where the snow was blowing about like white confetti, sticking to everything it came in contact with including the glass. When the sun struck the particles at just the right moment, it flashed gold.

"Why" asked Castle, bringing her back down to earth.

"Because of where he was at the time," she answered simply, looking him in the eye. "He was crossing the line between life and death on a daily basis. So that's why his bird's wing is crossing outside of the circle."

Castle nodded, pressing no further. He sat up, holding one arm out for her.

She gladly fell into the warmth of his embrace, feeling so happy and secure in his arms. She breathed in the musky scent of his hair and the saltiness of sweat, some of it, probably her own. "I was thinking…" she sat back.

Castle's waited for her to proceed.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth. "I was thinking about getting another bird."

His eyebrows shot up like the little flippers on a pinball machine. "For what?"

She grinned, leaning in closer to him. "For you, silly."

Castle thought about this for a second before beaming at the idea. Did he really mean that much to her that she would put a permanent symbol of him on her skin, next to a symbol of her parents?

"I think it's time that another bird joins this one inside the circle," she said, touching her hip. "Just like this tattoo," she kissed him, "I'll always have you."

He smiled as he pressed his warm lips to hers. "Always."

And the arctic winds continued to charge through the city, but not even the aftermath of the polar vortex could steal the heat from their kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note: I just saw the episode on TNT where Beckett mentioned her tattoo and had to write this, partially because of writer's block and lack of other inspiration. If you haven't heard the song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Tattoo. Keep sending me your song requests and, as a courtesy to me, an idea for an accompanying short story! Always, A.**


	15. Ch14) Classic

**Classic**

**By MKTO**

_This world might have gone crazy  
The way you saved me,  
Who could blame me  
When I just wanna make you smile…_

_You're over my head  
I'm out of my mind  
Thinking I was born in the wrong time  
Let's start the rewind, everything is so throwback age (I kinda like it like it)  
Out of my league  
Old school chic  
Like a movie star  
From the silver screen  
One of a kind living in a world gone plastic  
Baby you're so classic__  
_

"You really are a beautiful woman," Dr. Neiman said, her voice like icicles. The doctor's surgically enhanced lips were curled upwards in a cruel grin, her implanted cheekbones making sharp, triangular shapes under her almond eyes. "But not perfect." She tilted her head to the side, studying the detective sitting across the table from her, no doubt analyzing what changes she would make if given the chance to put her under the knife. "I could fix you."

Beckett's jaw clenched, her mouth slightly agape in awe of the doctor's audacity. Suddenly, all of her flaws felt too prominent; the vertical wrinkles in her forehead from years of scowling, the mole on the left side of her jaw, the slight protrusion of her stomach over the hem of her jeans, the clump of mascara clinging to her lashes. She resisted the urge to touch her face-doing so would be humiliating and narcissistic-or let her hair fall forwards to curtain her eyes. Instead, she sat up straighter, letting the comment pass as if it didn't bother her in the slightest.

Dr. Neiman continued to smile; her grin demeaning and cold, disappointed that the detective chose not to elaborate. Beckett had only shown a glimpse of her insecurities; that factor immediately earning Neiman's respect. Most would have looked dejected at being called imperfect, showing some self-aware tic. But Detective Beckett was confident and cool in the face of scrutiny, barely flinching at Dr. Neiman's words. Still, there _was_ a subtle flinch.

Beckett continued her investigation as normal, all the while simmering on the inside, wondering what flaws Neiman-a woman considered beautiful in society's eyes-saw in her. Of course, Beckett knew that she was pretty-she had been told so her entire life-but like all other females, she had her insecurities about her image.

The two women were complete parallels.

Neiman: the essence of fake from her stick-straight dyed red hair to her surgically enhanced D-cup breasts. She represented all things wrong with beauty: the manufactured side.

On the other hand, there was Beckett. With chestnut brown hair that hung in loose waves down her shoulders, a golden tan thanks to genetics and not UV lights, and an athletic, lean body; she was the definition of natural beauty.

"I've dated lawyers," Neiman hissed like the snake she was, "I know that if you don't charge me, I can leave."

Beckett's expression remained steely, her confident grin never faltering even though she had just lost the standoff.

Dr. Neiman stood up, her legs gracefully unfolding from under the table. She held herself like a lady; all gentle movements and light touches. "No hard feelings, Detective," she smirked, "we're both professionals, you're just doing your job." Neiman turned her head slightly as she stared down at Beckett. "You seek justice… I seek perfection."

Beckett finally looked away, yet again revealing to Neiman that her past comment had, in fact, registered. She blinked rapidly, staring passively at the space to her left.

Neiman smiled. "In fact…" she reached a perfectly manicured hand into her expensive purse and extracted a business card. "Whenever you're ready to take this to the next level," she placed the blue- striped card reading _The Neiman Clinic_ on the table and slid it towards the detective. "_You come see me_."

With that, the doctor exited the interrogation room, leaving a morose Beckett sitting at the table. Neiman's red heels slammed into the floor as she left without a backwards glance.

* * *

Castle was waiting outside of the interrogation room when Beckett came out, her head hung. Her long hair fell in front of her face, creating a shield which darkened her hazel eyes.

He studied her as she paused in front of the window, distantly staring into the room. Her arms crossed over her chest, one of her hands coming up to conceal her mouth. Her lips parted as she drew the curve of her index finger between her teeth, like she always does when she's irritated.

Castle ducked his head as he tried to meet her eye. "Hey," he says quietly, glancing past her into the bullpen. "You okay?"

She blinked twice, her arms lowering to her sides. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Fine," she muttered. "We need to…" she trailed off, distracted by her own thoughts. "We need to find evidence that she was at the marina that night."

Castle cocked his head. "Beckett."

She swiveled her gaze around the floor. "I'll get CSU to… sweep the uh, area around the…"

"Beckett," he said again.

"She had to be there," she continued, her voice rising with anger. "She had to be, the evidence fits-"

"Kate."

Finally, she met his eye and he saw the insecurity which she kept concealed behind her tough and confident façade. He took her by the shoulders and stared straight at her. "You're beautiful, you know that, right?"

She blinked, looking away again and pushing her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, no, I know," she mumbled.

Castle put his hand under her chin, bringing her gaze back up. "I don't think you do."

The corners of her mouth twitched.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he said earnestly. "And you've got the brains to match, which makes you ten times hotter than any Victoria's Secret model I've met."

She smiled slightly. "How many Victoria's Secret models have you met?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "The point is that you're a natural kind of pretty; a beauty that you can only be born with. You have an old school, Audrey Hepburn classy chic. Whenever I see your face, I just want to make you smile because you just look so perfect when you do."

Kate blushed, her lower lip drawn between her teeth.

Castle's smile grew. "And Dr. Neiman?" he gestured into the interrogation room. "She doesn't know what she's talking about, saying you're imperfect. She's a fraud, fake… plastic. And you're…" he shook his head in awe of her. "You're one of a kind."

She grinned sheepishly, her eyes shining like 5th Avenue diamonds.

Seeing her smile made Castle so happy, knowing that she was too. Her smile lit up the room and could launch a thousand ships. He leaned in closer, wanting to soak in her glow. "Living in a world gone plastic, you're so classic." Castle mulled this line over in his head. "Hey! That rhymed!"

With that, Kate stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. "You're so sweet," she said, her arms snaking around his middle. "And a good rhymer."

Castle kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet aroma of vanilla and cherries permanently infused into her scalp. "The only downfall of you being so pretty," he said, half-jokingly, "is that you're way out of my league."

Beckett drew back, her lips pressed into a hard line. "I am not! Castle, you're just as attractive as me."

"That's impossible," he shook his head. "No one's as attractive as you are."

"We're both equally pretty, okay?" she insisted, tapping him on the nose before collecting the case files from the table nearby. She headed towards the bullpen. "And we'll make _very_ pretty babies one day," she hinted none too subtly, sauntering away with her chin in the air.

Castle, who had been following at close range, stopped in his tracks, grinning to himself. _Babie_s, plural, she had said.

Kate glanced back at him from the murder board, attaching a magnetic clip to Dr. Neiman's photo and placing it on the board. She smirked at his dumbfounded expression. "Let's get back to work, prettyboy."

* * *

**Author's Note: If you haven't heard the song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Classic. Always, A.**


	16. Ch15) Halo

**Halo**

**By Beyonce Knowles**

_Remember those walls I built  
Well, baby they're tumbling down  
They didn't even put up a fight  
They didn't even make a sound._

_I found a way to let you in  
But I never really had a doubt  
Standing in the light of your halo  
I've got my angel now._

_It's like I've been awakened  
Every rule I had you breaking  
It's the risk that I'm taking  
I ain't never gonna shut you out_

Gold was everywhere.

Golden morning sunlight streaming through the windows which reflected gold off of the white satin sheets.

Gold particles of dust floating in the air like minute pieces of confetti.

Golden tan skin of the woman he loved, lying next to him.

Gold streaks in her curly hair.

Gold flecks in her hazel eyes that shone every time she blinked up at him.

Gold ring of light surrounding her head, like a halo.

Sunday mornings like these were simple things that they cherished, celebrated with lazy hours just lying together as the sun rose, warming the room.

They lay on their sides, facing each other, fingers entwined together in the space between them.

Kate's gaze was affixed on their hands as she lazily circled her thumb along the back of his hand, enjoying the familiarity of it all. Occasionally, her eyes would flick upwards to lock with his and she'd smile at him.

To Castle, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; like an angel.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, staring into her gold eyes.

She grinned as he caressed her cheek, her eyes falling closed so her thick black eyelashes was all he could see until she opened them again. The contrast of black to gold took his breath away. She just looked so peaceful and happy. He wanted to stay like this forever; just lying in her presence and soaking up every bit of her.

"Remember those walls I built?" she asked, speaking for the first time that morning, her voice still hoarse from sleep. The circular movement of her thumb around his hand changed direction, gently caressing the bump of his knuckle in a counter-clockwise motion.

The right corner of his mouth jumped upwards. "You mean the ones I had to scratch and claw to knock down? Of course." How could he forget? He had only spent their first four years together trying to peel back the layers of the Beckett onion, and it wasn't until he had been through the worst parts of her life that he realized that he was still pawing at the surface. Even now, Castle was convinced that he wasn't yet at the core.

She looked over his shoulder into the mirror. "I used to hate you, remember? When we first met, I found you so annoying," she chuckled slightly.

Castle smiled nostalgically, not because the old Beckett was amusing with her uptight and commanding demeanor, but because he was comparing then to now. To think that the pissed off Beckett who stormed into the library and took him into custody was the same one lying in bed next to him now was what made him smile. "And all it took was that one night," he said, remembering that night like it was yesterday. He could practically smell the rain. "That one night: that brick knocked out of place to send those walls tumbling down. They didn't even put up a fight," he squeezed her hand with his, drawing them close to his heart. "They didn't even make a sound."

Kate closed her eyes. He had no idea how long she had sat on those swings in the pouring rain, just trying to work up the nerve to go over to his place. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't shown up on his doorstep, if she hadn't gotten to kiss him and tell him that she was sorry. Where would she be now, if not for that fateful night?

Her hand was warm enclosed in his, resting against his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat, rising and falling in unison with her own. She exhaled. "I found a way to let you in, but I never really had a doubt."

Castle touched her cheek, his fingers falling forwards to run through her tousled hair. Her head sank down into the pillow, the halo behind her growing brighter. He had his angel now.

He pulled her closer until her lashes were brushing his nose, her breath on his lips. "Were you as scared as I was that night?"

She drew back slightly, her brows raised. "Of course," she stated. "I was nervous as hell; don't you remember me shaking like a Chihuahua?"

"I thought that was due to the fact that you were soaking wet," he laughed. "What _were_ you doing out in the middle of a thunderstorm, anyways?"

She smirked. "I was singing in the rain because that's the kind of thing I like to do before I have sex with someone," she said sarcastically.

"That's a weird kind of foreplay," Castle said with a serious tone, "but, hey, whatever gets you going-"

She slapped him playfully in the arm.

Castle laughed, rubbing his bicep. "Remember when we first started dating?" he asked, continuing down memory lane.

"And we had to keep it a secret from everyone, yes," she completed his thought, uncurling her index finger to smooth down a wrinkle in his shirt.

"Well, I don't know about you," he said, "but that was actually kind of fun, trying to keep everything under wraps. It was like our dirty little secret." He smirked.

Beckett laughed, thinking back to that exciting secret romance they had at the beginning where they had to whisper to each other, glance around to make sure no one was around to overhear, and sneak around behind Gates's back in order to avoid getting fired. It certainly _was_ thrilling, but often times stressful to keep such a significant detail about their lives from their colleagues.

"All those rules I had you breaking," Castle continued, certainly enjoying recalling fond memories of sexy rendezvous in the precinct supply closet, the prospect of getting caught adding to the excitement.

She smiled to herself and chewed her lip, the memories having brought back the old nervous butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She had risked everything to be with him, and for once, her risks had paid off in the end.

Castle watched as Beckett absentmindedly scratched the faint circular scar on her chest, leaving white lines across the pink oval. Her hand fell back onto the bed, her tan V-neck shirt having shifted to the side to leave the scar exposed.

She would never dare reveal the physical evidence of her pain to anyone but him. She had found a way to let him in.

Beckett propped her head up on her elbow and stared at the wrinkled sheets like she was trying to memorize the pattern in which it was sewn.

He smiled the widest this time, his hand coming up to gently touch the scar. It was slightly raised at the edges and concave in the middle, a single shade lighter than the rest of her skin. She looked up as he did this, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Castle had made the same gesture their first night together, and the small touch reminded her of that moment.

The scar was her place of vulnerability; a constant reminder of what she had been through and how far she had come.

Castle looked up, meeting her gaze. He reveled at her eyes; gold flecked with green, gold streaks in her curly hair, and the reflection of gold light behind her, like a halo.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to Insertisernamehere for suggesting this song! I do not own rights to Halo. Keep sending me song requests and leaving your reviews! Always, A.**


	17. Ch16) Everything Has Changed

**Everything Has Changed**

**By Taylor Swift (feat. Ed Sheeran)**

_Cause all I know is we said hello  
And your eyes look like coming home  
All I know is a simple name,  
everything has changed  
All I know is you held the door  
You'll be mine and I'll be yours  
All I know since yesterday  
is everything has changed_

_And all my walls stood tall,  
painted blue  
But I'll take 'em down,  
take 'em down  
and open up the door for you_

_And all I feel in my stomach  
is butterflies the beautiful kind  
Making up for lost time,  
taking flight,  
making me feel right_

"And who should I make this out to?" Castle said for the millionth time that day, a forced smile plastered on his face. He stared down at the cover of _Heat Rises_ as it was placed in front of him and flipped to the first blank page, his pen hovering over the thick paper.

"Kate," a familiar voice said.

Castle's eyes shot up, his heart leaping in his chest.

"You can make it out to Kate," she said as they locked eyes.

Castle's mouth went dry as he stared up at her. In their three months apart, she had changed so much. Her hair was longer and she was far skinnier than he remembered. Her cheekbones were more prominent, and there was a tired look behind her hazel eyes, their usual spark absent. She smiled slightly but there was sadness in the grin that only he recognized as suppressed pain.

She stood there awkwardly, feeling the impatience of the line of women standing behind her, clutching their glossy hardcover books. The Barnes & Nobles was crowded for a

Castle's expression changed from surprise to anger, his agape mouth pressing into a hard line. "Beckett," he said dryly, his head lowering. He haphazardly scribbled his signature under the dedication and closed the book with a snap, sliding it back towards her.

She stared down at it, her brow furrowed. "Castle, I-" she began, not quite sure of what she had expected from showing up at his book signing. Of course he was cross; he had every reason to be.

He seemed different to her, like he was exhausted by life. His shoulders were rounded and he wore a wrinkled plaid shirt, giving off the impression that he just didn't care. Gone was the boyish charm she had come to love and the feeling of joy he radiated upon everyone in his presence. He looked grim, defeated.

But as she stared into his familiar blue eyes, it felt like coming home. There was warmth hidden in his glare, like he didn't _want_ to be angry.

The woman behind Beckett sighed, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I'm done here in twenty minutes," Castle stated darkly, not meeting her gaze. He knew that if he looked at her for too long, he would find himself incapable of remaining angry with her.

Kate tilted her head, her lower lip drawn between her teeth. After a beat of silence, she nodded, the woman behind her already advancing towards the table.

"All right," she said softly, turning away.

Castle didn't reply, only sat up straighter and put on a strained smile for his next fan. He took the book from the woman and flipped it open. "Thanks for coming," he said cheerfully. "Who should I make this out to?"

Beckett stood off to the side, pretending to be interested in a nearby display of encyclopedias on clearance. She watched Castle out of the corner of her eye, analyzing his stiff movements.

The line in front of Castle's table grew thinner as time went on and as promised, he was signing the last book in twenty minutes.

Beckett slowly approached him, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.

Castle didn't look over at her as he stood, stepped around the desk piled high with Nikki Heat merchandise, and promptly strode out of the store without a backwards glance.

She was slightly taken aback at his coldness, but shrugged it off as stubborn pride as she trotted after him. "Castle!" she called out.

He ignored her, keeping his head down as he shoved the front door open, letting in a blast of fresh air.

He stepped outside and momentarily glanced back at her as she caught up. Despite his anger, he still held the door for her before storming away again. The kind gesture nearly negated his entire steely demeanor.

"Castle, wait," Beckett said, practically having to run to keep up with his West-Point stride.

"I did," he growled, slowing down slightly but not looking back, "for three months. You never called."

Finally, she caught up as he paused at a crosswalk. She stayed one step behind him as he speed-walked across the street, his dark hair flying out of place in the cool autumn air. All around them, pedestrians were bustling about on their normal day, never minding the two people in the middle of a spat.

Beckett briefly wondered where Castle was heading until the park came into sight. "Look," she huffed, catching her breath as they came to another street corner. Three months of bed rest really left her out of shape. "I know you're angry…"

Castle spun around and she nearly slammed into him. "You're damn right I'm angry," he spat, his nostrils flaring. "I watched you die in that ambulance, did you know that? Do you know what that's like?"

She was shocked at his sudden outburst and leaned away slightly, a lump rising in her throat.

None of their fellow pedestrians paid them any mind, despite the fact that Castle was practically shouting.

Castle narrowed his eyes. "Watching the life drain out of someone you…" he paused abruptly.

Beckett held her breath, waiting for him to bring up the four letter "L" word.

"…someone you care about," he finished.

She exhaled, relieved. "I told you I needed some time," she replied, the wind blowing her long hair into her eyes.

Castle frowned. "You said a few days."

Beckett shrugged, the heavy book under her arm slipping slightly. "Well, I needed more," she said indifferently, looking away from his intense gaze.

They both knew that their months apart had nothing to do with healing. It had to do with her avoidance of the thing she feared the most. If not for her need for the files he had in his possession, Beckett doubted that she would have had the nerve to ever confront him again.

"You should have said that," Castle retorted, his anger diffusing slightly. He couldn't argue that she needed time to recover from such a traumatic event.

"Castle, look," Beckett sighed, looking straight at him. "I couldn't call you, okay? Not without dragging myself into everything I was trying to get some space from. I needed some time to just work through everything."

The corner of Castle's mouth twitched. "Josh help you with that?"

"I-" she looked across the street at the iron arch above the park. She opened her mouth and shut it again before replying, "We broke up," and taking off across the street.

Castle stared after her as she walked briskly into the park. They broke up? Could that mean that she remembered…

Now it was his turn to hurry after her.

As he anticipated, she went towards the swing set and sat in the first one, _Heat Rises_ in her lap. Castle sat to her left, his hands folded.

He stared straight ahead at the group of young kids playing in the mulch. They sat on their haunches, using their chubby hands to sweep the chips of soft wood into an enormous pile before stomping it flat again. It was a decent comparison to how his heart felt.

They sat in silence for a minute until Beckett opened his book, reading the two lines above his signature.

_To Captain Roy Montgomery, NYPD.  
He made a stand and taught me all I need to know about bravery and character_

Beckett ran her fingers over the words and glanced over at the writer. "I like the dedication," she commented, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

Castle nodded, watching as the little kids ground their newly formed mound of mulch under their tiny sneakers. He flinched. "Seemed fitting," he muttered.

There was another few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Why did you and Josh break up?" asked Castle nonchalantly.

Beckett took a deep breath. "I really, really liked him," she said truthfully. "But that wasn't enough." Kate thought about Josh, how amazing and kind he was, but how she could never be completely herself around him. "After my mother was killed, something inside me changed. It's like I built up this wall inside. I don't know, I guess I just didn't want to hurt like that again," she sighed, inadvertently implying that she _knew_ of Castle's feelings for her. "I know I'm not gonna be able to be the kind of person that I wanna be," she said with a frown, vertical lines forming between her brow. "I know I'm not gonna…I'm not gonna be able to have the kind of relationship that I want until that wall comes down. And it's not gonna happen 'til I put this thing to rest."

Her walls stood tall, guarding her from getting hurt. But they were placing her in solidarity, preventing her from getting close to anyone; _loving_ anyone. She was trying hard to take them down and open up, her confession to Castle being the first step towards opening her doors to him. She wanted to be able to love him like he loved her, but she couldn't just yet. And leading him to believe so would be unfair to him. She had to focus on putting herself back together before even considering getting involved with someone else.

The kids Castle was observing stopped building mulch mountains, choosing instead to play a new game involving hurling large amounts of dirt at one another. He turning towards Beckett. "Then I suppose we're just gonna have to find these guys and take them down." He tilted his head and grinned. "Doesn't mean I'm not still mad," he said in a playful tone.

Beckett appreciated the lightness in his comment, recognizing that at least some of their old vibe had managed to make it through the warfare. As she looked at him, his lips turned upwards and eyes bright, hair disheveled from the wind, she felt elated, knowing that she had her best friend back.

The sick feeling in her stomach that had been there since leaving the hospital was gone, replaced by butterflies, the beautiful kind. It was the feeling that came with knowing that she was loved and they made up for the three months of lost time.

As Castle smiled at her, the butterflies took flight, making everything feel right.

There was still a tension there, one that would fade with time. Nothing would be the same, and neither of them were kidding themselves pretending that it was.

They didn't know what was ahead for them, but they were optimistic that better things were coming. With every door that had slammed shut, another one had opened.

They didn't know what they were to each other: colleagues, partners, friends, other?

They didn't know how long her walls would take to knock down, or what it would take.

All they knew since yesterday was that everything had changed.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent me song requests! Unfortunately, I've been extremely busy recently with midterms but I'm trying to catch up on my writing. If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it, it's one of my favorites! I do not own rights to Everything Has Changed. Please continue leaving reviews, I adore seeing them in my inbox. Go Broncos! Always, A.**


	18. Ch17) Home

**Home**

**By Phillip Phillips**

_Settle down, it'll all be clear,  
Don't pay no mind to the demons  
they fill you with fear.  
The trouble it might drag you down  
If you get lost you can always be found._

_Just know you're not alone  
Cause I'm going to make this place your home_

"Castle, let's try a different position, this isn't working," Beckett muttered, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

"Try lifting your leg up higher," Castle suggested; his back aching.

"I _tried_," she responded with an exasperated sigh, mildly annoyed, "It's not a good enough angle."

Castle pushed his damp hair away from his forehead. "This stupid piece of wood is so big; it's a miracle we ever got it through your front door." He paused replaying his previous sentence in his mind, then chuckled to himself. "That sounded dirty."

Beckett gave him a withering look as she gently set down her end of the table. She glared at the antique that they had recently picked up at a flea market, made of mahogany and weighing well over a hundred pounds. For the past half an hour, they had been trying to get the damn thing through her kitchen door; turning and flipping it in every way imaginable to squeeze it through with no luck.

Scattered around the apartment were cardboard boxes stuffed with Castle's belongings. He hadn't brought much; only his books, clothes, and a single lamp.

She sat down on one of these boxes, her elbows on her knees as she tried to think of a way to get the table into the dining room without disassembling it.

Castle pulled up a box next to her, his feet under the table. "We could always just keep it here," he said, only half-jokingly.

Beckett laughed. "Yeah, it looks fantastic in the middle of the living room."

"You always eat out here anyways," Castle pointed out. He drummed his fingernails against the rough tabletop, feeling the indented grains and scratches from the previous owner. It was a beautiful piece and incredibly old. The elderly woman they had purchased it from had seemed reluctant to part with it, and for good reason. Behind every scratch and stain was a memory of family meals and kids birthday parties.

"You know," Beckett said, running her hand over the carvings in the table leg, "we wouldn't have _needed_ to get a new table if you hadn't broken the last one."

"_I _broke the last one?!" Castle said incredulously, pointing a finger at himself. He scoffed, "excuse me, but I do recall that it was you, Kate Beckett, who suggested we have sex on the kitchen table."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but who was the one who snapped the leg?" she poked him in the stomach.

"We _both _snapped the leg," he said, poking her back. "It takes two."

Beckett stuck her lower lip out and exhaled, blowing her hair away from her face. She stared at the table that was never going to fit through the door. "I guess we could find a place for it out here." She chewed her thumbnail, looking around the living room for a potential spot. "What do you think?"

Castle stood up, stretching his sore biceps. "It's your choice, it's your apartment," he said nonchalantly, twisting around to crack his back.

Beckett looked up at him, her lips drawn into a frown. "No it's not, it's you home now too, remember?"

Castle nodded, "Right, I keep forgetting." The truth was that this apartment didn't feel like his home, not yet anyways. It was still Beckett's apartment, with some of his things in it.

Sensing his uncertainty, she rose to her feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, resting her head on her shoulder as she stared at the boxes. "I'm glad we're moving in together," she said.

Castle smiled. "Me too. I was afraid that we'd get married and still live in separate apartments," he teased. "It would be a long-distance marriage."

Beckett smiled back, bending down to pick up the box she had just been using as a chair. "What do you say we get some of these things unpacked?"

"Or…" Castle grabbed her hand and dragged her back towards him. He sat on the edge of the table. "We could break this thing in-"

She took a step away so he couldn't kiss her. "Or we could unpack these boxes so they're not sitting around."

Castle pouted as he stood back up, grabbing the nearest container. "You spent three months in DC without ever unpacking a box but _now_ you'd rather do that than fool around on our new table."

Beckett hid a smile as she walked away with the box under her arm. "Yes, because it's _your _stuff. And I want to make this place your home." She paused. "And I don't want to break the table, I really like this one."

Castle followed her into the office where she began unloading his books onto the shelves. "It doesn't matter where my stuff is; home is wherever I am with you."

Beckett turned on her heel, a stack of Stephen King books in her arms. "That's sweet, Castle, but I want you to feel like this is your place too."

"It does feel like my place."

"No it doesn't," Beckett shook her head, "because it doesn't feel like that to me either. I think that putting your things where they belong will fix that."

Castle sighed, but ultimately agreed with her. "Okay, Beckett, let's make it _our _home then."

* * *

After four hours of uninterrupted work, all of Castle's things were unpacked; his clothes in the closet, books on the shelves, and lamp in the corner of the office.

Beckett was right, having his things there _did_ make it feel like home, Castle thought as he proudly scanned the room. The new table had found a place against the wall, next to a window overlooking the city. A vase with lilacs sat atop it, tying in with the neutral and purple color scheme.

They both looked forward to eating breakfast there on Sunday mornings, sharing the newspaper and drinking coffee.

The picture frame containing their sea shells from the Hamptons hung above the fireplace, the mantel decorated with mason jars containing beach sand and white coral.

The stacks of books lining the staircase had doubled in size with the addition of Castle's collection, and the selection was suddenly highly varied in genres.

Beckett smiled as she looked around; feeling like the place was entirely new. It was brighter now and the bad memories that used to be associated with it were chased away by Castle's presence in every dark corner. Now settled down, it all became clean and clear.

She paid no mind to the demons that filled her with fear. Trouble would drag them down, but she would never be lost again.

Castle was right; it wasn't about where their belongings were. Home was wherever they were together.

Finally, they were home.

* * *

**Author's Note: I have chronic writer's block, sorry. If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Home. Always, A.**


	19. Ch18) Explosions

**Explosions**

**By Ellie Goulding**

_On the day you wake up  
Needing somebody  
And you've learnt  
It's okay to be afraid,  
But it will never be the same  
It will never be the same._

A sea of faces, each one etched with sorrow.

Every person in the crowd was obscured.

Except one.

He sat in the front row between his mother and daughter, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

A flash and a gunshot.

A burning pain like none other spreading through her like fire.

She felt everything at once and nothing at all.

Everything was bright white, the corners of her vision sparkling with golden light.

* * *

She cringed in her sleep, her hands clenched over the scar on her chest.

* * *

She was lying on the ground and her gloved hand came away stained with red.

She couldn't breathe; couldn't move.

The sky that should have been brilliant blue was turning black.

* * *

Her breath became ragged and she gasped for air.

She sobbed into her pillow, tears flowing into the soft fabric.

Someone grabbed her arm.

"Kate."

* * *

He was hovering over her, his hands on her arms.

All she could see in the blackness was blue eyes.

"Stay with me, Kate," he whispered.

The pain was too much.

She could feel the weight of the bullet inside of her, dragging her down like an anchor.

She was dying.

* * *

She choked on her tears, hands scratching at the scar, trying to remove the bullet. She shivered and writhed, her legs tangled in the sheets. Her forehead glistened with sweat.

"Kate!" Someone shook her.

* * *

The blue began to fade into black.

"Stay with me, Kate," he said, "I love you."

She couldn't feel anything.

Chaos erupted amongst the people around them, but she only heard his words as the blackness consumed her.

"I love you Kate."

* * *

"Kate!" Castle shouted, shaking her from the nightmare.

Her eyes snapped open and she gasped for air. She looked about frantically, expecting to see headstones and trees and a podium. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She couldn't breathe.

"Kate!" Castle said again, grabbing her hands. "Kate, it's okay."

She finally locked eyes with him and she saw blue again. "Castle," she said as an exhale, hot tears streaming down her flushed face, the foggy edges of the nightmare dissolving.

"You're okay," he said gently, drawing her into a hug. "It was just a dream."

Beckett sat up, covering her eyes with her hands. "It wasn't a dream," she sobbed into his shoulder. "It was real." There was a difference between a nightmare and a memory and this one was all too familiar.

Castle held her as she cried.

She was safe in his embrace, knowing that he wouldn't let anything hurt her. Eventually, her heart rate returned to normal and her breathing evened.

Still, Castle didn't let her go.

"I'm sorry," she muttered into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I woke you." She had thought that her nights reliving that day at the funeral were over, thanks to long sessions with Dr. Burke. But she was wrong. Those memories were still there, only pushed to the back of her mind.

Her subconscious sleeping mind had no control over what was suppressed, no matter how traumatic they were.

"Shhh," he whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, brushing away her tears. "It's okay to be afraid."

Kate clung to him as her lifeline to reality, comforted by the familiar smell on his neck. "I-I thought this was over," she stammered, "These nightmares, I shouldn't have them anymore. I should be fine now, I should be _healed_." She started crying again.

Castle kissed her on the cheek, and then on the lips, tasting the saltiness of her tears. "It will never be the same, Kate," he said quietly. "_You'll_ never be the same."

She nodded, burrowing her nose in his shoulder to block out the hovering fog of the nightmare. She heard the gunshot again and she recoiled automatically.

Castle tightened his hold, his hand rubbing her back until she calmed down. "You'll never be the same. And that's okay."

When the memory faded away, Kate laid back down, her head pounding. Her hand rested on the scar.

Castle lay at her side, covering her hand with his.

She looked over at him, studying the blue eyes that had pierced through the veil of black. "Don't let go," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I need you."

"I won't," he replied, locking their fingers together. "I promise."

Kate nodded, her eyes falling closed. She fell into the blackness of sleep, but the blue kept the darkness at bay.

* * *

**Author's Note: If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! It's a truly beautiful ballad. I do not own rights to Explosions. Always, A.**


	20. Ch19) Unconditionally

**Unconditionally  
by Katy Perry**

_Unconditional, unconditionally  
I will love you unconditionally  
There is no fear now  
Let go and just be free  
I will love you unconditionally_

Beckett stared at the stack of blank index cards in front of her, her PaperMate pen having yet to touch the lines. Across from her at the breakfast table sat her fiance, scribbling away on his own cards, his nose inches away from the paper. She watched as his hand flew across the cards, handwriting slanting more and more as he wrote faster and faster, like he couldn't get the words down quick enough. He came to the bottom line and flipped to a new card, glancing up at her during the brief transition.

"How are your vows coming?" Castle asked, his head ducking as he started up again. He was beginning to write so fast, his cursive penmanship was becoming an indistinctive curvy line, only capable of being read by himself.

She sat back in her chair, blue coffee mug cradled in her lap. "It's not fair."

"What's not fair, sweetheart?" Castle muttered, not looking up from his card.

"Don't call me 'sweetheart'," she replied, "and this vows thing, it's not fair because you're an incredible writer and the last thing I wrote was hate mail to Senator Bracken." Her lower lip protruded in a pout.

Castle set his pen down. "In your defense, that was very well-written hate mail."

She smiled behind the rim of her mug, tapping her unpainted nails against the ceramic ridges. "Can I read what you have so far?" She leaned across the table, over their plates of muffins to get a better view.

Castle put a forearm over his cards, shielding them from her sight.

"Hey!" Kate exclaimed. "C'mon, seriously? I can't see?"

He shook his head with a smile, sweeping the cards together and patting them into a neat stack.

She picked up her pen and wrote _Vows_ in capital letters in the top margin. "There. Progress." She clicked the pen again.

Castle placed his vows facedown on the table and picked up his blueberry muffin which Kate had baked herself. "Just write what you feel, write what's in your heart," he said, mouth full of hot muffin. "Mmm, this is really good."

"Easy for you to say," Kate muttered, her chin resting on her hand, "you're a best-selling author."

He nodded. "And you're a kick-ass detective. You can do something as simple as this."

She sighed.

Castle crammed the rest of the muffin in his mouth and washed it down with his coffee. He stood up, wiping his hands on the thighs of his shorts. "I'm going to go take a shower." He bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Don't look at my cards."

"I won't look at your cards," she smirked.

He briefly considered taking the cards with him but decided against it.

Kate watched him exit the room and as soon as she heard the water running, she grabbed for the cards and scanned read them quickly. Her jaw went slack as she scanned over his words.

_Kate, I knew from the moment I met you that you were the one for me. You're the most incredible person I've ever met in my entire life and it's no surprise why I chose you as my muse. You inspire me every day to be more than who I am. I'm constantly awed by your beauty, your strength (pause, look up) and your hotness (smirk, wait for laughs)._

_We've been through everything together; through the ups and downs, the good, and the bad, the best and the worst of each other. But to quote our favorite playwright, "The course of true love never did run smooth"._

_And now, as I stand in front of you on our wedding day, I see how far we've come and I cannot even put into words how happy I am that I'm marrying you. "I love you more than words can wield the matter, Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty."_

_You're my partner, my best friend, and the love of my life. "I would not wish any companion in the world but you." Today, I take you to by my lawfully wedded wife. (Pause) I never thought I'd be able to call you that. (Pause, grin). I promise you that I will be faithful, to honor you, to respect you, and to love you. I will love you unconditionally. There's no fear now, so we can let go and just be free. I will love you unconditionally, for richer or for poor, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live. I will love you, Always. (You're probably crying like a baby now so wipe your tears.)_

She slowly set down the index cards back where she found them. Her smile stayed as she sipped her coffee, looking out the window at the falling snow. There was a light, warm feeling in her stomach as she replayed the vows in her head. _Always._

"Beckett?"

She jumped, tearing her gaze away from the white cityscape.

Castle stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and steam from the shower making the temperature of the room rise. "You want to join me?" he gestured towards the bathroom where the shower was still running.

Kate smiled at him. "Yeah, sure..." she glanced at her blank cards. "You know what, I'll be there in a minute, I just need to... do something."

Castle grinned. "All right, don't be too long."

"I won't," she promised, picking up her pen and beginning to write.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you to whomever suggested this song! Actually, I think a couple of people did so thanks to all of you! Sorry it took me so long to write this, I've had major projects to work on and will still be working on until the end of the month so bear with me. I know my past few chapters have been pretty mainstream, so I will be moving away from that in a little while to those of you who hate the Billboard. If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to Unconditionally. Always, A. (Follow me on Twitter abby_steinour)**


	21. Ch20) In My Veins

**In My Veins  
By Andrew Belle**

_Oh, you're in my veins  
And I cannot get you out.  
_

It was _their _song.

The song they slow danced to at the winter formal like they were just kids in high school, the one that would be put on eternal replay and become the theme song of their love story.

_Oh, you're in my veins and I cannot get you out_, Castle hummed quietly as they drove home that night, one hand on the steering wheel and the other, interlocked with Beckett's. _Oh, you're all I taste at night inside of my mouth_, the music became louder as she squeezed his hand and they locked gazes, grinning at each other like young, star-crossed lovers.

They came to a stoplight and Beckett leaned over in her seat, her mouth centimeters from his ear. He could feel the warmth of her exhaled breath on his jaw.

_Oh you're in my veins and I cannot get you out_.

"I love you, Castle," she whispered, like it was a secret she only wanted him to hear.

_No I cannot get you out.  
No I cannot get you.  
Oh I cannot get you._

The lyrics played over and over in rhythm with his heartbeat. An elated feeling of happiness filled him from head to toe with those three simple words.

I

Love

You.

He turned his head to the side and their lips met as the light from red to green. "I love you too, Beckett," he replied.

_Oh, you're in my veins and I cannot get you out, _their hearts sang as they drove the rest of the way home in a calm silence. The night was quiet and serene, the black road shining in the street lights from the recent rainfall.

The music never stopped; the dance never ending as they made their way into their apartment at quarter 'till midnight in a heated embrace. _Everything is dark, it's more than you can take, _echoed in the background as they undressed each other and stumbled into the bedroom, falling on top of the unmade sheets. _But you catch a glimpse of sun light. Shinin, shinin down on your face. Your face, oh your face._

Beckett savored each kiss as if it were her last, feeling like a teenager in crazy, stupid first love. He was her poison, coursing through her veins, and she couldn't get him out, and she didn't want to. He was addictive; something she couldn't get enough of and craved every second of every day.

_Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out_, she heard playing as he made slow and gentle love to her, just like their first time together. _Oh, you're all I taste at night inside of my mouth_, she thought as they fell asleep lying next to one another, listening to the muted patter of the rain against the windows. _Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out._

"I love you," were the last words he spoke before drifting off.

_No, I cannot get you out  
No, I cannot get you  
No, I cannot get you_

"I love you too."

_Oh, I cannot get you out._

* * *

**Author's Note: So, that last episode pretty much put an end to the entire premise of this story but I think I'm still going to continue anyways. Please leave your reviews and song suggestions, I enjoy seeing them in my inbox. If you haven't heard this song, please go listen to it! I do not own rights to In My Veins. Follow me on Twitter abby_steinour. Always, A.**


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